


A Hundred Drabbles

by abstractsta



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Angst, Angst With Hope, Angsty Schmoop, Blow Jobs, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean, Comeplay, Dean Has Self-Worth Issues, Dean in Panties, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Language Kink, Love, M/M, Marking, Masturbation, Mild Gore, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rimming, Varying Warnings, Varying ratings, now with werevolves!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-02-14 16:10:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 100
Words: 41,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2198262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abstractsta/pseuds/abstractsta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A journey I'm embarking on, to write 100 Destiel drabbles. Each addition will have their own warnings and ratings, if applicable.</p>
<p>You're heartily invited to stroll along.</p>
<p>Word counts of each installment are going to be 100-<s>400</s> <s>800</s> 1100 (oops). Every drabble is a story of its own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of Wolf And Man

**Author's Note:**

> Drabble 1.  
> Word count: 100  
> Rating: General Audiences  
> Warnings: N/A

“ _I hunt_

 _Therefore I am_ ”

Metallica blared the best it could from the Impala’s speakers, Dean belting out the lyrics with gusto, drumming his fingers to the steering wheel and Cas’s knee, grinning wildly at Cas, who sat in the passenger seat.

At times like these, Castiel could see it, the perfect hunter personified, raring to go, wildness flaming straight from his heart and through Dean’s eyes, the beast within to end all beasts, and Cas loved them both - the wolf and the man.

When Cas took the man’s hand into his own, joining the beat, the wolf grinned wider.

***


	2. Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Warnings: N/A  
> Word count: 100  
> Fluff

Castiel stirs, prying his eyes open, finding Dean where he belongs, beside him; bright-eyed and staring at Cas.

“Weren’t you the one to tell me it’s creepy to watch people sleep?”

“Well, yeah, but you were going to wake up soon anyway, so it doesn’t count.”

Cas grunts and smacks his mouth, assessing the morning breath- situation and seems to come to a conclusion. He closes his eyes again, lazily pawing at the general direction of Dean.

“It _so_  does.”

The gruff growl still betrays the amusement, and Cas grabs Dean into a languid kiss; his beloved guideline to wakefulness.

***


	3. Mirror Image

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Warnings: N/A  
> Word count: 100

With Cas hovering behind him in the cramped motel bathroom, Dean tried hard not to nick himself while shaving. Rinsing the razor, Dean followed how Cas’s eyes shifted from Dean’s reflection to his own, and back again. Then back to himself.

“What do you see?” Dean gestured to Cas’s mirrored image.

“It’s difficult to explain,” Cas paused, hooking his chin to Dean’s shoulder and wrapping his arms around his waist. “Light, mostly,” Cas shrugged, almost like wanting to ignore the question. “Shadows… Ages.” Cas tightened his hold, nuzzling the side of Dean’s neck. “With you, like this, I see myself.”

***


	4. Shared Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Warnings: N/A  
> Word count: 300  
> Contains: rimming, anal fingering, bottom!Dean

Dean’s cock leaked a healthy dollop of precome each time he heard that low voice groaning, so close to his hole, as Castiel had pillowed his cheek on Dean’s ass to worship him properly. Dean could feel Cas’s exhales, the way he held his breath like it was taken by the sight before him.

Cas’s stubble scratching Dean’s skin enhanced the sensations, and as Cas palmed Dean’s flesh to spread him wider; to see, to marvel, Dean’s own breath stuttered in anticipation.

Dean felt the dry pad of Cas’s thumb brush across his pucker. Not teasing. Feeling.

Castiel shifted, gaining purchase, kneeling behind Dean’s prone form, and licked his thumb before rubbing it against Dean’s hole, spreading, so that he could see the vibrant pink so sneakily hidden inside Dean, for Cas’s eyes only. He could not resist licking the precious sight, moaning his answer when Dean keened his approval.

Leaning back again, fractionally, as if he daren’t stray too far, Cas licked his other thumb and revealed more of the delicate pale red, resisting the urge to push his thumbs inside and pulling until Dean was begging for more, for Cas.

Instead, he laved his tongue lavishly over the secret skin, flicking it on the rim, darting quick fucks inside, and trembled, as Dean moaned and rocked back for more.

“I’ll give you more, Dean, I promise.” The words were spoken directly where they had the most effect, and Dean shivered, cock jerking impatiently.

Cas groped around for the lube blindly while sucking Dean’s hole, offering his face to be fucked against while he slicked his thumbs, and in a smooth move, Cas made the switch from his tongue to his thumbs, pressing into Dean’s loosened ass.

“You are truly beautiful, Dean.”

Dean didn’t have the mind to argue.

***


	5. Let It Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Teen   
> Warnings: N/A  
> Word count: 400  
> Fluff.

Baby hadn’t succumbed to anything, Dean was adamant about that. She’d merely recognized the fight being unfair and forfeited, for the time being, as the rains flooding the town had slithered under her hood and dampened her plugs. So she’d been towed to dry off, and the motel of the evening welcomed, sort of, the two drowned cats that slunk in and headed straight for a hot shower.

Hardly pleasant, if Cas was consulted on the matter, but the aftermath had its perks. Laying here on the bed, snugly enveloped with Dean, cocooned in warm blankets in nothing but their boxers, and the television droning on yet another rerun of Dr. Sexy, it wasn’t too… shabby.

But it was missing something.

Closing his eyes, Cas shifted, feeling a distinct craving. The warmth, the faintly heard drumming of the rain on the roof, the almost lethargic feeling that came from the absolute safety he was experiencing, it was almost perfect, except for one thing; Hot chocolate.

It was _bizarre_ , since Castiel didn’t require sustenance, yet he felt unease at the lack of some hot beverage.

“Dean.”

“Mmhmm?”

“I don’t want to move.”

Dean took a moment to sift through this information, and frowned at Cas; “Then don’t. You don’t have to, I’m fine right here.” Dean tucked his hands under the waistband of Cas’s boxers to emphasize his point.

“But I can’t get hot chocolate without moving.”

“You want hot chocolate? Where’d that come from?”

“I have no earthly idea, but I have a theory.”

“Let’s hear it,” Dean leaned to the side subtly, listening intently while rummaging through his duffel with one hand.

“I think it’s inherent in humans to try to stave off bad weather with comforting things.”

“Like hot chocolate?”

“Yes. And I’m becoming more human each day, so it’s self-explanatory.”

“Would any ol’ chocolate do?” Dean held up a Mars bar with triumph and a hopeful look.

“I’m not sure,” Cas perked. “But we should try. Presumably, it’ll work.”

“How’s that?”

“That’s chocolate, and you’re hot, so there’s both parts of the equation.”

Dean’s peal of laughter was catching, and soon the men were play-fighting over the chocolate, until a compromise was made and shares of rations were divided equally.

In the end, the following kiss seemed to do the final trick, as it wasn’t only chocolate-y, but it also got Cas hot and very, very bothered.

***


	6. Yours And Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 200  
> Bottom!Cas, comeplay, possessiveness

All Castiel could do was to try to hold himself upright above Dean, watching the hunger in Dean’s eyes as he fucked into Cas, a hunger that matched Cas’s.

Dean had Cas pinned to the thin air, Cas itching for leverage so he could push back onto Dean’s cock, but the vice grip Dean got on Cas’s hip, and the precarious balance he had Cas holding gave little leeway. All he could do was take it, feel all the force and possessiveness, the feral need and fierce ownership, while cherishing every second of it.  

Dean made him yearn it, fucking hard and deep, making Castiel’s toes curl and his skin prick electric, the onslaught of pleasure coming in wave after wave, rising with his moans, until cresting, until he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer, until he came in hot streaks across Dean’s belly, chanting Dean’s name in a reverent _thank you_.

Cas reveled in the feel of Dean’s cock twitching inside of him, imagining how Dean’s seed spilled, anointing him, a reaffirming of an unbreakable bond.

Words weren’t required. Cas gathered his come with his fingers and brought them to Dean’s lips, abating their hunger. For the moment.

***


	7. Void

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Warnings: demon!Dean  
> Word count: 200  
> Angst

It’s a terrified feeling that has Dean’s heart clutched in its cold clasp, this inexplicable dawning of realization that things have come to this. How there’s nothing to say, and it’s not for the easy, effortless buoying around each other that he’s come accustomed to. There just isn’t anything left to say. No irritation, no anger, no sadness. Just emptiness, where there used to be endless love.

The canyon in his chest is yawning wider by the second, as Cas places a book on the table, wiping an invisible speck of dust of it, a gesture that should send a pang through Dean’s chest, but doesn’t.

He remembers having found it endearing, can almost feel the warmth of it spreading all through him, down to his fingertips. He glances into the mirror to his side, and doesn’t flinch at the blackness of his eyes. He doesn’t care how Cas feels about any of it.

Dean’s numb as he watches Cas pick up another book. He wants to lash out, wants to yell that it’s all for nothing, but the cold inside of him makes him shiver, the emptiness showing teeth, and Dean is terrified.

He wants to love Cas again.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've strayed here and are reading this. Thank you for that. That's fantastic on its own, but, if you happen to have an idea, a prompt if you will, or some specific situation you'd like to see written in short form, please, give it to me. 
> 
> ♥


	8. Touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 100  
> Fluff

Such a simple thing, Castiel mused drowsily, awed; handholding. How he could feel the heat of Dean’s skin against his own, see the strong fingers and feel a flutter in his stomach from the sight alone, knowing what they were capable of. How they were deadly, nimble, powerful, and yet, they were gentle when Dean held Cas’s face in his palms to kiss him, combing through his hair, stroking Cas’s hand with his thumb as if to reassure that he was there, and wasn’t going anywhere.

Such a simple thing; to reach and hold, and feel connected. A human touch.

***


	9. Prayer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 100  
> bottom!Dean

Cas called him insatiable even when he’d given him almost fifteen minutes to recuperate, before snaking down, all but swallowing Cas’s cock, horny as all hell and eager to get him going again.

Dean felt insatiable, riding Cas, watching hungrily the ‘O’ of Cas’s mouth, drinking in the moans and groans coming from the angel, only for Dean, only _ever_ for Dean. Only ever _because_ of Dean.

The obscene squelch of Cas thrusting through his own come made Dean grab the base of his cock, the sounds almost too much.

Still, Cas’s plead, his prayer, his “ _Dean!_ ” undid the world.

***


	10. One Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Fluff, early morning introspection

Castiel had never said it in so many words. It was all coming from the experience gained during their years in the trenches, side by side, that Dean could now form the filaments and fleeting, flowing wisps in his mind into a coherent thought; Castiel had fallen in love in Hell.

In retrospect, it explained many things, like how Castiel had been able to drag Dean out of the Pit in the first place. Why the rise of the Righteous Man was so significant, because how could it not be, when a force like love tore the hate and misery of Hell asunder, enough to create a route for an escape.

Of course it mattered, made sense, that something so pure slicing through torment and rot would be the trigger for destruction.

Once the thought took place, made a home in him, it gave Dean peace. In Hell, there was no free will. That’s why it had to be him, that’s why it had to be Cas, because it was all part of the divine play, and Dean could finally let go of the guilt of the survivor, the guilt of being helpless in the face of destiny, and the niggling idea that he was being selfish, basking in Cas’s love. He was allowed.

As far as too-early-in-the-morning, still-draped-all-over-your-man- revelations go, Dean felt surprisingly stable. No gasps of sudden understanding, no need to share the newly discovered information, but in their stead, a drowsy kiss to Cas’s temple before just breathing him in, eyes closed and languid. Perhaps a content sigh, a smile against skin and the short search for a beloved hand to hold, like so many times before. So many times to come.

The sleepy mumble came through a sleepy smile; “Good. And don’t forget it. Now sleep.”

***


	11. Thirst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Flowery porn  
> Bottom!Cas

Dean bites his lower lip, but fails to swallow his groan as he watches rapturously how he’s sinking inside Cas, slow, unhurried, taking their time to feel themselves coming together in the carnal realm.

For Dean, the sight is spectacular, taking his breath away, how the tight fit of Cas in welcoming him, and he can’t resist. He stops, soothing Cas’s demands with a hand caressing his hip, while his other hand cups Cas’s ass and spreads him for better view.

Cas’s breath hitches when Dean thumbs his rim, stretched deliciously around Dean’s cock, and he’s lost to the sensation, mind drawing a blank outside of adjusting himself so he can reach back and grab Dean’s hand, pulling him down, back to chest, for he might die if he doesn’t get Dean’s skin against his own.

Dean goes willingly, embracing Cas’s middle, drawing his hand away from between them - an unnecessary barrier when the air is pregnant with their need - and thrusts flush against Cas in the same moment as Cas just _takes_.

It’s part of the thrill, the waiting. The mutual denial to quench their parching thirst.

It never fails to drown out the world when they become one.

***


	12. Take This Bread

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 400  
> Fluff  
> Slight angst  
> Issues with food (no eating disorders)

It had been a physical pain around Dean’s heart, a startled, anxious flutter in his stomach, when he’d watched Cas emerge from the shower in only a towel, and it was all because of the way Cas’s ribs had started to cast shadows where there should be none.

Dean had known Cas sometimes went all hare-brained while researching and forgot to eat, and though his grace was fading, there was still enough he didn’t feel hunger, even when he needed the sustenance. Dean had swallowed hard against the dread, and made a determined decision; He’d put meat on those bones, he’d fight tooth and nail if he had to, whether Cas liked his mother-henning or not.

Even Dean, reluctantly, admitted that a man could not live on cheeseburgers alone, but that’s exactly where he started - preparing their meal with care and a heaping of love, making sure the strawberry ice cream was melting to perfect softness, timed with the moment when Cas had swallowed the last crumbs.

It took three weeks of vigilance and surprisingly exciting culinary adventures, but it was well worth it, when Dean’s fingers slotted in their place around Cas’s sides, and under them there was health, muscle, strength, and in Dean’s mind, the pleased knowledge that _he_ made it happen.

Cas smiled against Dean’s neck, fully aware that he was being sized and measured. He’d thanked Dean for his troubles in very inventive ways before, but he figured now was the time to express his own wishes.

Cas was truly happy to see how much Dean enjoyed cooking, and his face alighting when Cas complimented the food while wolfing it down because it was just that tasty. But up to now, Cas had merely been observing, not wishing to intrude or interrupt - a silent study, like he’d been for millennia.

Now, he wanted to join Dean.

“Dean,” Cas hummed against Dean’s skin, hugging him closer.

“Yeah?” Even with so many things gone right, Dean still daren’t hope.

“Do you mind if I…” Cas drew back to look Dean in the eye. “I don’t mean to interfere. I know I’m new to this and…”

Dean dared to hope, brushing his thumb over Cas’s cheek. “Spit it out, man. I can take it,” he smiled.

“Dean, can I help with dinner?”

Dean’s answer manifested in a lingering kiss.

“You and me, babe, we’ll conjure up a goddamn _banquet_.”

***


	13. The What Now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Fluff-ish, realization

It’d been _weeks_ into their, uh, relationship, before Dean realized, stunned, in mid-step towards his car, that Castiel had known all along.

Dean’s deflection, steering conversations, finding some obscure thing enthralling all of a sudden - it was all a smoke screen, a way to buy time, ascertain, and Cas had been nothing if not patient.

All the indulgent changes of subject on Cas’s part, the incremental movements to give Dean more space to gather his thoughts, it was all done on purpose. Castiel’s way of waiting Dean out, and fuck if Dean didn’t love him _that much_ more for it.

***


	14. Oncoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating:Mature  
> Word count: 300

Deadly. White, ( _It’s hot_ ) cold and at a distance ( _too far_ )

The deft fingers of the skies themselves, poking into the horizon as if to try, and fail, ( _Hey, what?_ ) to cut the even thread stretching  ( _That’s… Oh!_ ) beyond imagination. Gathering the strength to ravage, rage, ( _frustrating_ ) roar from the loss, to bleed.

There were clouds. ( _Dean, you_ ) Black, heavy, stocked with impatient, sweet ( _impossible man_ ) nourishment, waiting for the ( _sorry_ ) command to unleash ( _sure_ ) life. Droplets escaping, losing control, leaving towards their home, ( _collapse_ ) eager to be complete ( _chuckle_ ) desperate to reach, to rain.

The air clung ( _kiss_ ) to everything in its grasp, suppressing, ( _around_ ) weighing its odds, dizzying ( _hands_ ) with thirst for ( _silk_ ) fresh breath, holding to its presence tight once given form, so rare, ( _on me_ ) such existence.

Hovering ( _can‘t_ _wait_ ) expectancy with the presence ( _lick_ ) of the forthcoming, with waiting, with lust for the raw ( _slick_ ) closing in.

And the rumbling, shattering, ( _slide_ ) sharp like claws the sound, the final word of gods, a permission ( _oh, God_ ) and the black and blue erupts with a flash, and another, down, lower ( _yes, there_ ) until the drops ( _heat_ ) meet the earth. Giving, ( _more, need more_ ) merciful in flood.

Becoming one, dissolving to, drawn to, hungry ( _I want_ ) for each other. ( _feel so_ )

Too soon, ( _so good_ ) the heavens cease feeding the soil, left ( _in me_ ) unfulfilled, ( _fuck_ ) unquenched, ( _now_ ) desiring, left to yearn ( _need_ ) for unison. Denied, ( _so good_ ) honeyed on the surface with the ( _hold_ ) promise ( _don’t stop_ ) for ( _mine_ ) more ( _mine_ ) without ( _for me_ ) certainty, ( _so close_ ) with (Cas!) no definition ( _ahh_ …) no shape ( _know_ ) no fear,( _don’t want_ ) for there was nothing to ( _without_ ) it, ( _love_ ) since there was  going to be ( _I know_ ) the next ( _always_ ) time.

( _Look, Dean. Apparently there’s been a storm._ )

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (What? I have to live up to my name sometimes, right? :)
> 
> ♥


	15. Adrenaline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 100  
> Sexual tension

It’s become inevitable; the post-gank adrenaline high a force of nature, and they both feel the electric current buzzing though their veins. For all it’s become a common occurrence, it’s always new, always exhilarating, the way Cas crowds Dean against the nearest wall and grabs the scruff of his neck to lead them into a devouring kiss. The buzzing in the back of Dean’s brain doesn’t abate, but changes its direction, now determined to give and take, pour it all onto Cas’s tongue, their hands grasping what they can reach, and Cas’s needy moan reverberates, shoots through Dean like lightning.

***


	16. Hearing Only What You Want To Hear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Warnings: jealousy, Dean's self-worth issues  
> Word count: 500 (oops)  
> angst, fluff

If Dean’s smile came out in a grimace barely halting a growl when the woman parked her ass at their table, he couldn’t really be blamed for it. With the way the brunette careened herself toward Cas was nothing short of flirtatious, and was that hand brushing Cas’s when getting her drink absolutely necessary?

There we thoughts bulldozing through Dean’s head, none of which were pretty, many which were downright gruesome, and it was all stupid and petty, but fuck if Cas’s smile at the woman wasn’t the sunshiny one that had previously been Dean’s privilege only.

Dean was glad he couldn’t hear what they were saying over the music in the bar and the red buzzing in his brain. Whatever it was, it made Cas actually fucking _titter_ and glance at Dean, before turning back to the lady. All he could pick up was a low rumble along with a bashful expression on Cas’s face, and yes, Dean was man enough to allow that we was insanely jealous.

Short of biting his glass, Dean gulped his beer and adjusted his seating, adopting a nonchalant face. It was how he’d confronted his worst fears before, so why change it now? It wasn’t like he hadn’t known Cas would eventually find someone very much not-Dean to find interest in, and, boy, had it been a long time coming. He’d just have to cut his losses, trod down the well-worn path of misery, and let go. For all he could make deals with demons, if this was what his angel wanted, so be it. Who was Dean to stop him?

Dean nodded to himself and took one last look at the pair on the other side of the table, only to stop in his tracks when he found Cas and the woman staring at him intently.

Blaming it on the magnetism he always felt with Cas, Dean went without a thought at Cas’s beckoning. This was it. This was Cas telling him he was leaving with his new “friend”.

The overwhelming sense of wanting to steal Cas and hightail it out of here, to make it all stop, got lost when Cas grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled him down, meeting him in the middle in a kiss more appropriate in the bedroom.

In the ensuing whirlwind of confusion, Dean could distinctly hear Cas saying how this was Lacey, a photographer who thought Castiel and his husband were cute together, and would kill for the opportunity to take a portrait of them, free of charge, on the condition that she could put it on display at her shop.

As Cas rose and plopped himself next to Dean, worming his arm around his back to hold him close, Dean didn’t feel like chewing glass anymore. With the trio’s heads bent over the table to discuss some details, Cas pecking a kiss under Dean’s ear and his hand finding Dean’s knee to rest his hand on under the table, he felt loved.

***


	17. Sunny Side Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 300  
> morning fluff, very brief melancholy

Mornings weren’t the most raucous or verbose times after Castiel figured out sleeping, and, inescapably, waking up. The grumpy muss of hair that sat at the kitchen table guzzling down black coffee like it was ambrosia, tended to greet the earlier hours with grunts and sighs, with a few jaw-breaking yawns thrown into the mix.

Still, it was one of Cas’s favorite things; Watching through half-lidded eyes as Dean futzed around the stove, turning simple ingredients into deliciousness mostly by instinct, and a day didn’t go by without that tiny pang of regret, that little pinprick of realization, that they had essentially wasted _years_ before they’d come to terms with who, what they were. Together.

The creeping melancholy was smoothed away by a plate of eggs and a tender kiss, with the acceptance that it would have been too early. They hadn’t been ready. Together.

But once they were, they’d picked up a private storm, both of them coming to their unanimous conclusion that their happiness lies within each other, and it had been like slipping under a well-loved blanket in the coldest of nights, to find the warmth that only they generated. Together.

It was all in that plate of eggs. You poke at it before they’re ready, and it becomes a mess, but once you find the perfect balance, it’s to be enjoyed. Together. With a drop of hot sauce.

Dean Winchester certainly put the hot in just about anything, if Cas was asked, especially with how those pajama pants hung too low on his hips…

“Cas, I can see you, you know.” Dean leaned over the table, his nose nearly touching Cas’s, a teasing smirk on his face. “Morning philosophy took an unexpected turn?”

“Never unexpected. _I_ can see you _too_ , Dean.”

Really. Perfect timing all around.


	18. Senses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 100  
> Oral sex, enthusiasm

Castiel _reveled_ in his senses; feeling the velvet skin of Dean’s cock sliding between his lips, the delicious testament to Dean’s pleasure as Cas tasted precome on his tongue, how the sounds he pulled out of Dean shot straight through him, shocking in their animalistic purity.

Watching Dean’s openly blissed face, Cas, rapt, teased the slit with his tongue, tasting and feeling, listening, yearning to get more, starved for the moment when Dean started to thrust forth, eager and willing to give exactly what Cas needed in turn.

Gliding Dean deep down his throat, Castiel took mercy on them both.

***


	19. Calm Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General audiences  
> Word count: 300  
> Fluff, slight angst  
> Sam mentioned

The gnawing sensation of futility ate at Dean’s nerves, who worked his frustrations by clanking around innocent dishes, his shoulders set tense, stance poised to rip the head off the next person who dared speak.

“You’re frustrated,” Castiel stood in the doorway, watching, brow creased. Worried.

“Yeah, how _very_ astute of you.” A coffee mug met its demise in the sink, shattering, and taking along the strings holding Dean up.

Slumped, Dean took a deep breath to compose himself, but before he could turn more of his ire toward Castiel, he found himself in a strong, fortifying embrace, the fight gone, and in its place, despair.

Holding on stronger, scooting closer, Castiel gathered Dean’s hands into his own and held them together against Dean’s chest, Cas’s chin on Dean’s shoulder, swaying to and fro, grounding.

“I know. But there’s only one of you, one of Sam, and one of me. There’s only so much we can do.”

The fire roiling in the pit of Dean’s stomach re-kindled; “That’s just it!” He gripped Cas’s hands harder, leaning against him with his eyes closed. “We do our fucking best, and what is that?! We’re not leaving even a _dent_ in the shitpile of horror that is this world!”

Castiel brushed his thumb across Dean’s bruised, scarred knuckles, and stayed silent, nudging his nose behind Dean’s ear, and placed a kiss there.

Minutes ticked by, paced only by their swaying, Cas’s press of lips against Dean’s skin, their grips becoming gentler and Dean’s breathing less and less erratic before calming altogether.

Dean all but slumped against Cas, turning his head so he could see his eyes; “You’re right. We’re better than nothing. Let them come. Let them _all_ come.” Dean extracted his hand from Cas’s, cupping Cas’s face.

His kiss tasted like thanks.

***


	20. All Hallow's Eve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General audiences  
> Word count: 200  
> fluff  
> Happy Halloween :)

”I remember this,” Castiel said gesturing at the plastic pumpkin filled with chocolates resting on Dean, who was in turn resting snugly on Cas on the couch.

“You ought to. We just bought it.” Dean didn’t need to see the exasperated eye roll for it to tickle him to snicker gleefully.

Cas snatched a treat in retaliation and popped it into his mouth, finding nuances in the taste he couldn’t have described in English even if he tried. It wasn’t… bad.

“I meant the tradition, humans carving lanterns out of turnips, chasing away evil. There’s much lore about if, if you’ll let me—“

“You’re not going anywhere, snuggle bunny,” Dean went as limp as possible atop Cas. “You can tell me about it, what you remember, what you’ve seen, but under _no_ circumstances are you allowed to wiggle away.” To ram his point home, Dean lost interest in the candy to wrap Cas’s arms around him and locked his legs with his own. “Unless a werewolf come a-knockin’, we’re staying right here. One day out of the year. It can’t be too much to ask.”

Castiel relaxed, message well and truly understood, and murmured through a smile; “Happy Halloween, Dean.”

***


	21. Fulfillment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Mature  
> Word count: 200  
> sexual tension, oral sex

Dean shook with the growing need that’d been eating him alive for the entire drive here, the images of what he’d do to Cas once they were alone nearly ending them in the ditch as they burst forth in his mind, and were now about to realize; Castiel shoved on the bed, the gleam in his eyes speaking louder than any words could, about the same eagerness which roiled in Dean’s veins.

There wasn’t time for undressing, else Dean might _die,_ so he bluntly unzipped Cas’s trousers, snaking his fingers through his flies and around his cock. Salvation. Saliva flooding his mouth Dean pressed his face against the hot flesh, inhaling deep the musky scent that drove him mad with want.

It was the entire world compressed into this one moment, the feeling of Cas thrusting in his hand, the whole of him impatient, Cas’s hand in Dean’s hair and Dean’s name on his lips not unlike a prayer.

Dean would be lying if he tried to deny it didn’t thrill him to know how he was the only one who ever got to do this, to _have_ _this_. With the taste of his angel on his tongue, Dean shook.

***


	22. Need

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 200  
> bottom!Cas, rimming, come sharing

Castiel relished the obscenity of it all; how he pushed back against Dean’s face as he licked and laved his hole, lips sucking, tongue fucking right into him, while Dean praised Cas’s taste right into the responsive skin. Cas moaned unbidden, hand curving around his own leaking cock, only to have it batted away with strict instructions to steer clear, as Dean claimed Cas his property and ordered him to come only from his tongue.

Feeling like his very spine spasmed, Cas scooped handfuls of the sheets and felt in his core how Dean’s broad hands held his hips firmly, guiding him, coaxing him, welcoming him into the white bliss of his orgasm, laced with love and astonishment of how good Cas was for Dean. With endearments, Dean guided Cas on his back gently, a tender moment allowing Castiel to gather his wits.

Giving Cas a scant moment to catch his breath, Dean swept his tongue over Cas’s cock, licking off what come had dribbled there, then moved up Cas’s body, into an embrace, to share his bounty.

Cas sucked on Dean’s tongue eagerly, wrapping his legs around his waist to get what he feverishly wants; “Dean, _fuck me_. Now!”

***


	23. Hold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General audiences  
> Word count: 200  
> Warning: implied homophobia  
> fluff

It was oh, so tempting. So close Dean could almost feel it on his fingertips – what wasn’t there making them tingle, making him curl his hands into fists to keep himself in check.

It wasn’t like he’d ever been a big hand-holder before, but the darkening evening, the hectic day, and the first moments alone with Cas were getting too much to handle, walking beside him, their hands brushing every now and then, but with what felt like the entire world snapping at their heels, in this part of the city, Dean had no choice but to keep his distance. More trouble was the last thing they needed.

Without a word, not to mention a warning, Castiel tugged Dean to a halt in front a shop’s window, pointing at something, while Dean had no clue what he was looking at. Under the guise of explaining, Cas stepped closer, and under the canopy of his coat, grabbed Dean’s hand into his own, brushing his thumb over Dean’s knuckles. For a few precious seconds Cas held Dean on the palm of his hand, and he held firmly, keeping Dean grounded while Cas’s whisper ran down Dean’s spine; “ _I know, Dean. Me too_.”


	24. Closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Mature  
> Word count: 100  
> top!Dean, fluff

There was only one term for it; making love. Dean’s slow thrusts, slick lips gliding over the other’s unhurriedly, savoring each other’s smallest gasps, foreheads pressed together, while their eyes scrunched shut against the pleasure, while all they wanted was to _see_ … Yeah.

The frantic grasping and clinging had boiled down to sheer wonder and exhilaration of being together after Castiel’s return, after Dean had been nigh resigned to chalk Cas missing in action after a solid month of being gone, after Dean’ worst fears…

Castiel wrapped himself around Dean, holding, needing, pulling him in; life-affirming. “ _Right where I belong_.”

***


	25. You Can Leave Your Hat On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General audiences  
> Word count: 200  
> humor, fluff, dialogue only

”No.”

”No?”

”No. ”

”That’s the fifth tie you’ve made me try.”

“I know, but it’s not… It just isn’t _right_ , you now?”

“No, I don’t know, now that you ask.”

“Ooh, getting fresh, are we? Now, shut up and let’s try something else. Here, try this.”

“But this is yours.”

“I’m aware of that. Go on, lose the shirt and try it on instead.”

“It’s very soft, Dean.”

“Yeah, now, take those slacks off and try these on.”

“Jeans? These are yours too. I can’t--”

“You can, and you will. Get on with it.”

“Shouldn’t I wear a T-shirt--”

“Maybe later. In fact, let’s just take everything off for now.”

“Dean, you’re flustered. Why?”

“What do you mean ‘flustered’? It’s hot in here… Isn’t it?”

“…No? The temperature hasn’t changed at all.”

“Really? Well, that’s just… uh…”

“Are you thirsty? You’re swallowing hard, maybe you need a glass of water.”

“That’s not exactly what I need right now, Cas. What I need is you out of those clothes. _My_ clothes. Clothes that work very, very well on you.”

“They are quite comfortable.”

“You can keep the shirt on. Just, _please_ get on the fucking _bed_.”

“…Oh... The shirt may go.”

***


	26. When It Rains, It Pours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General audiences  
> Word count: 400  
> angst, Dean's less than stellar self-esteem.

The moment Dean woke up in the morning, he’d known it was going to be one of those days. The ones that hung heavily over him like a heavy, wet, musty blanket thrown over him, so all he could see was the darkness that was always there, at his heels, ready to swallow him whole.

It had grown worse throughout the day, the almost palpable need to hide away, to go away, to stop existing, so that others wouldn’t have to be burdened by his breathing. It was the kind of slump no amount of alcohol drowned, and no amount of clawing would get him out of.

Cas had seen right through him since sunrise. Likely even before that, making sure Dean ate, though Dean wasn’t sure why. Why Cas even cared.

Buried under their covers in the bed was where Dean lay immobile, eyes unseeing, staring into everything he’d ever done wrong, burying himself under the hot coals of his mistakes. Even Cas’s hand stroking his side burned. Dean couldn’t understand why Cas cared.

“Because I love you, Dean.”

Dean had no idea if he’d said anything out loud, but it wouldn’t be the first time his soul was for Cas to read like an open book.

There hung a question between them, the one Dean daren’t ask out of fear it would only make Cas see what a mistake he’d made for ever choosing Dean. For ever thinking him worthy. It would bring into bright relief how Cas had confused pity with love. Today, Dean just wanted to get it over with;

“Why?”

Castiel didn’t pause. Didn’t take a breath. He turned and burrowed himself under the covers, pressing against Dean’s back and embracing him. “You, Dean. Were you anybody else, I wouldn’t love them, because they wouldn’t be you. All of you.”

Dean tried to find a flaw in that logic, a way to argue, to mitigate, deny, anything to make him feel _not_ loved.

Silence stretched on, Cas’s even breath warm to the back of Dean’s neck, his arm shifting only to find a better way to hold Dean.

Dean wanted to lash out. Complain about feeling coddled, yell how he didn’t want Castiel’s pity, but he _wasn’t_ feeling it. Dean could feel each stroke of Cas’s thumb over Dean’s chest, their matching breaths, and the only thing he could _feel_ was that he was loved.

***


	27. Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Mature  
> Word count: 100  
> possessiveness

Dean could’ve never in his life thought familiarity would be such a turn on. Him brushing his lips over collarbone, he knew to dive to suck hard on Cas’s neck, right under his Adam’s apple, to wring out _that_ needy noise.

He knew to run his hand over Cas’s side, caressing, and to turn directions and pinch his nipple, not letting go, to get those hips thrusting up in pure lust.

Dean’s cock was pulsing with Cas’s heartbeat, easily felt through his lips, which had migrated to mark another spot, mind reveling in the heady knowledge _._ Cas _belonged_ to him _._

_***_


	28. Through Space

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General audiences  
> Word count: 100  
> Warning: wingless Castiel  
> Written for the prompt 'Impala' by yes_i_ship_it. Thank you for the prompt!

The Impala ate the black of the asphalt like the beast she was, miles after miles, her headlights leading their way in the rainy darkness.

Sometimes Castiel yearned to fly again. Sometimes he felt the pain of emptiness where his wings used to be like the phantom limbs they were. Sometimes, he stared ahead and was crushed under the futility of thought, of wishful thinking, of wanting to turn back time, even for a moment.

Those were often times when Dean prompted, even _pleaded_ for a night ride, his hand squeezing Cas’s, the men smiling together, as Castiel flew again.

***


	29. Our Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General audiences  
> Word count: 100  
> ...crack...?

The tinny sound of The Beatles struck Dean the first thing at the door. The second, the sight of Cas, cross-legged, earbuds on, on the bed, ‘Lucy In The Sky with Diamonds’ wafting through the air, before ‘Let It Be’ distortedly took the stage. Dean stood at the door, dumbfounded, paralyzed, just staring at unaware Castiel as he switched on to ‘Norwegian Wood’, then slightly, adorably scrunching his nose, before becoming equally adorably curious of ‘Fool On The Hill’. It was the first strands of ‘Love Is All You Need’ that got Dean moving again. He could get behind that.  
***


	30. What Binds?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 400  
> light bondage, oral sex, 69

It gave Dean more than a little thrill to have all that _power_ under his palms, the idea of Castiel willingly succumbing to whatever Dean deemed just, the angel accepting this, _wanting_ this, as he lay naked and bound by the scarf to the headboard.

It wouldn’t take even a blink of an eye for him to break free, but he chose to stay right where he was. And that got Dean’s juices flowing, as he bestowed sucking kisses along Cas’s ribs, his thumb being sucked inside the tantalizing heat of Cas’s mouth, sighs of growing anticipation escaping his lips as Dean moved lower.

It wasn’t a familiar game. It was still fresh and crawling under their skins in teasing tickles, the relinquishing of their all to one another, being at their mercy in their barest. It was knowing and not knowing at the same time, learning and being taught, finding depths to which they could go, knowing without a doubt the other was there to save them, lest they fell too deep.

Cas, bound, thrust his hips impatiently, earning a dark chuckle from Dean, then a searing kiss to his mouth, before he was gone again, darting towards Cas’s already leaking cock, laving the precome away and suckling rhythmically at the tip, driving Castiel mad with want of going deeper.

Dean’s other hand pressed at Cas’s hip to keep him thrusting up, the other sliding back and forth to brush teasingly at Cas’s taint, then up to tug gently at his balls, all the while suckling and releasing, promising more, then taking it away , only to come back again.

Pressing down on Cas’s taint, massaging Cas’s prostate, Dean sucked down hard, taking Cas halfway in, and broke what was left of Cas’s coherence, as the next thing he felt were fingers combing through his hair, and Cas murmuring, almost apologetically; “I just need… more. I want to touch you Dean, I want to taste you, I want…”

Dean, lightheaded, giddy that he’d rendered Cas into a state like this, where he didn’t even seem to remember there were supposed to be restraints keeping him from getting his hands on Dean, grinned, lust gleaming in his eyes. This, if anything, was an invite.

A remarkably slow, lingering kiss later, Dean blissfully found himself hefted above Cas’s face, his cock sucked down, doing all in his might to return the favor.

***


	31. Dog Day Afternoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General audiences  
> Word count: 600 (oops again)  
> Fluff  
> Written for the prompt 'picnic' given by yes_i_ship_it that I managed to turn into... this. Thank you, again, for the prompts ♥

Sometimes there were days when they could simply not do anything about anything. There wasn’t a hunt, the Heaven situation in a lull, and all in all, there was really nothing to occupy themselves with, other than to pack a few sandwiches, some pie, a few brews, and head to the nearest dog park at Castiel’s insistence.

When they first started to visit the parks, Cas had lamented the lack of cat parks, and Dean had only nearly avoided an impromptu trip to Japan for tea, after opening his big mouth and telling Cas about a café with cats lounging about for customers to pet. Bless Dean’s allergies and Cas’s concern.

Now, with his pockets lined with doggy treats and armed with a smile that had some serious potential to melt even the most hardened heart, Cas sat on a bench next to Dean, a half-eaten sandwich in hand and a mission written in his features. He had his eyes on one _tiny_ Chihuahua that ran around with an equally tiny ball in mouth, visibly exulting of life – characteristics which in Dean’s experience were absolutely irresistible to Cas and his endless wonder of creation in all its forms.

The world’s tiniest dog scampered to the owner, and Cas put his sandwich down, dusting his hands and giving Dean a nod with a smile.

Feigning exasperation, Dean did the same, but couldn’t help the smile on his face at Cas’s adorableness. In these moments, Dean couldn’t tell which one was the more excited one; Cas, or the various dogs they’d encountered.

The men got up and approached the Chihuahua and the owner, Dean acting as backup if it turned out Cas’s flavor of awkward charm less charmed and more creeped the person out. More than once had a dog owner been scared off by Cas’s attempt to be friendly and offer treats to a pup, and neither Cas nor Dean could begrudge them for it, for such was the state of the world we’re all living in.

This time, however, they were greeted without suspicion, as the owner thought her dog a fantastic judge of character, and Dean could but agree with her. The dog, named Rat, took to Cas like a duck to water, and soon Dean was in stiches, tears welling in his eyes as he was presented with sight of Cas ran yelling across the park with Rat snapping at his coat tails, then turning around and chasing Rat in turn.

The conversation with the owner was a familiar one, as she asked if they had a dog of their own.

And just like always, Dean felt a pang in his chest when he replied with the curiously familiar answer; No. With their jobs requiring so much travel, it was impossible to keep a pet. And like always, Dean glanced at Cas wistfully. Maybe. One day. Maybe, when all the madness ended...

Dean shook his head slightly, shaking off the soft tendrils of that particular daydream before it weaved itself into a heavy sort of guilt, and focused on what was right before him. The man he loved having actual fun. It was enough for the provider in Dean. For now.

When Cas scooped Rat up and jogged to the bench, glowing, out of breath and with a giddy grin splitting his face, Rat gnawing at a treat, Dean knew it was enough for Castiel too. Better yet, he _knew_ with utmost certainty, that when it stopped being enough, these outings, these little glimpses into normal life, there was something they would do about it. Hand in hand.


	32. Yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 200  
> Rimming

Dean loved getting rimmed. It was unadulterated bliss when Cas tongue-fucked him, licking the sensitive skin with gusto; listening to Cas hum and moan through his own enjoyment of doing this to Dean, and the slick slip-slide sounds of Cas jacking off, easing the need to be touched that, Dean knew, in these moments, was absolute. It went both ways.

All the pleasure pinpointed into a hot, coiling excitement, a strange mixture of wanting to come, and never wanting this to end, Dean’s hips undulating gently in a rhythm Cas established, his groans turning into unashamed begging as his needs warred with each other, the heat in Dean’s gut demanding to be released.

The keening sound Cas made at Dean tensing, hole clenching around the tip of Cas’s tongue, summoned its counterpart from Dean, hands fisting the pillow, ass pushed against Cas’s face, a fraction, a tiny push from the impeding orgasm that was sure to blow Dean’s mind. All it’d take was a hand on his cock and he would come. Dean knew that. Cas knew that. Dean also knew that he wouldn’t do it himself. He was all Cas’s.

Dean came untouched, breathless, held tightly in that truth.

***


	33. Qvasahi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 100  
> Language kink, marking, top!Dean

”Oh, yes, _yes_ , Dean, _yes_! Don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

It was deliriously _fantastic_ music to Dean’s ears, buried balls deep in Cas, leisurely fucking him, every thrust gracing Cas’s prostate, making Cas shiver and clutch onto Dean, breathing him in, making these gorgeous sounds Dean would treasure and summon in times when the real thing was beyond their reach.

“ _Ohh_ … right there _peleh*,_ my _qvasahis*…”_

“ _Jesus_ Cas, keep going and it’s over sooner than you'd like.”

Smiling blissfully, Cas latched onto Dean’s neck hard, effectively shutting himself up and sucking a mark there Dean would wear so very proudly.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enochian: *he who works wonders, **one who delights - My Enochian is a little rusty, so please pardon any errors.


	34. Cruel World, Small Comforts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 700 (huh...)  
> Sam makes an appearance, some gore, schmoopy-ishly wistful, no real angst really.  
> Based on yes_i_ship_it's prompt 'baby' ♥

It was mayhem, but it wasn’t their doing. The werewolf they’d tracked for the past week had wolfed up and headed directly to his next victims house, Sam, Cas and Dean arriving to the scene only minutes too late; there was blood everywhere, like the mere ripping out the woman’s heart hadn’t been enough, but the monster had decided to shower in the rain of his ravaging.

The werewolf had gone down easily enough with Cas hastening to turn it into ashes while Sam distracted it from its path to its primary prey; That was what made this one special. It feasted on the heart of women to sate its hunger enough to truly appreciate the delicacy of the infants in the single mothers’ care.

A monster within a monster. That was new. And now it was over. They’d just have to push through the guilt and the endless night of ‘what ifs’ that always followed when they couldn’t make it in time. _At least_ it was over _now_. And now, they had another problem in their hands. In Dean’s arms, to be exact; the small bundle made a noise sure to alert the entire county in about 3,4 seconds if they couldn’t calm the baby down.

Swaddled in her blankets, the fair-haired baby was turning an alarming shade of red even while Dean did his utmost to shush her, all the while casting pleading looks to Sam and Cas, begging them to do _something_ via facial expressions alone.

Seeing his opportunity to flee, Sam announced he was on diaper bag duty and excused himself to the bedroom, leaving Dean and Cas staring dumbly after him.

Granted, Sam had even less experience with kids than Dean, but… Man…

Dean focused his stare at Cas, slightly jostling the baby towards him, testing the waters, despair in his eyes. Not really knowing what else to do, Cas took her in his arms.

“She’s disturbed by the unfamiliarity. I don’t know how to rectify that for her,” Cas confessed, cradling the little ball of scream in the crook of his elbow, opening the blankets to give the little girl some relief from the heat she was generating with her heartbreaking wailing.

“Sam should be done in a minute,” Dean gestured toward the front door, shaking his head. “But we can’t go before she quiets, she’s going to get the whole neighborhood’s attention.”

Cas swallowed hard, glancing at Dean uncertainly, and widened his stance as if joining a battle. “I’ve never done this before.” He gulped and lift his hand to cover the baby’s forehead with his palm gently.

“Done what?”

“This.”

A shimmer of white light poured from under Cas’s hand, just barely visible, but within seconds, the baby’s wail turned into slight fussing, before calming down altogether.

Dean stepped beside Cas, to witness whatever miracle Cas had just performed, and couldn’t help but to smile in response to the infectious one and the bright eyes of the baby girl.

A look at Cas confirmed that both the men were entranced by the sight, relief making them feel giddy and not a little hopeful.

“Cas. She has green eyes.”

“Yes. Very.” Cas cleared his throat, inwardly shaking himself out of the momentary reverie, the one where they could just keep her, raise her, do right by her. Give her everything every child deserves. At the same time, he knew exactly how impossible it would be, so they’d do what must.

Dean, noticing Cas’s face turn wistful, rounded him and wrapped his arms around his waist, hooking his chin over Cas’s shoulder. He didn’t have all the answers, hell, he didn’t have _any_ answers, but he got this. “I know,” Dean sighed, lifting his hand to touch the baby’s hair. “Me too.” For a moment, the men just stood there, feeding off of each other’s understanding, companionship, and love so abundant it was almost tangible.

Which was why it was so hard for Sam to break the spell. But he had to. There were no options; “Guys,” came out in near whisper, but got Dean and Cas’s attention. “I got everything. We should go.”

Destination; The doorsteps of Children’s Center, San Antonio, Texas.

***


	35. Sealed With A Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 200  
> Schmoop

Dean could admit it had become a necessary habit. To an onlooker, had there been any, it would’ve seemed like a regular kiss, just something happening between two people infatuated with each other, but for Dean and Cas, it was so much more.

Inadvertently, they had become to find time for this during the day, no matter how hectic, since going without it was burning them like hellfire. Going without the confirmation that they were here, they were alive, they were together, was something that had become essential for living. Those were things that neither of them took for granted, and living with the knowledge that it could change at any given moment, their lives hanging from the threads of marionettes in the hands of a fickle, yet absent God… They needed _this_.

Breathing each other’s air, finding the familiar scent of one another, feeling their embrace tightly, demanding to get closer. Getting to nose across the skin of a cheek and press their foreheads together, just taking their time; every fleeting second counts.

Coming together in a kiss, soft, lips yielding to accommodate the other, tasting.

This wasn’t a kiss. This was celebration, exuberance. This was Dean and Castiel.

***


	36. Mornin'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 600  
> fluffy morning sex

Dean woke up slowly, naked as the day he was born - one of the perks of being back at the bunker; if you were too tired to change the sheets, at least you knew in whose body fluids you were lying in - a perk he and Cas took advantage of regularly.

Last night had been no different. Too exhausted to do much more than yawn and curl up snugly, they’d succumbed to sleep and now the first thing that crept into Dean’s consciousness was the pleasant feeling of being the little spoon.

It was always good, but in mornings like this, it suddenly got even better as he felt Cas’s morning wood pressing against his ass, Cas, still in the realm of unconsciousness, apparently making most of it, as he pushed against Dean more firmly and sighed happily.

Dean’s instant response to feeling Cas’s hard cock was to get hard himself.

It was when Cas sighed again when Dean decided he wanted to join the party, and carefully maneuvered himself to face Cas without waking him up.

As suspected, the face the angel was making matched the sounds, his mouth slightly open and smiling, his hips seeking for friction again.

Cas made a disappointed noise when all he met was air, that almost made Dean crack up before he scooted closer, sliding his hand into Cas’s hair to swipe his thumb over Cas’s temple.

This, as planned, woke Cas up, blinking against the darkness of their room, trying to assess what was happening around him.

“Shh, baby. I just want in on your morning fun,” Dean said with a lascivious smirk against Cas’s lips, his hand delving from Cas’s head and under the blankets, finding Cas’s cock, squeezing it meaningfully.

“Did I wake you again?” Cas mumbled, closing his eyes with the feel of Dean’s hand on him.

“Yes, and I love it. You know that.” To emphasize his words, Dean moved to press his cock against Cas’s, to drive in the point of exactly how not unpleased he was with Cas.

“Oh. Good. That’s…” Cas’s words turned into another sigh as Dean wrapped his fingers around their cocks, starting to jack them off slowly.

Further words were dismissed in favor of kissing. Slow, intent kisses exchanged in mixed breaths.

Cas kicked the blankets off, the heat becoming too much, and slung his leg over Dean’s hip, drawing him closer, thrusting forward to get across his need for more. More of Dean, and that he got; Dean stopping to gather their precome with his thumb, then speeding up his hand and gliding his cock against Cas’s, their kisses turning into more like exchanging breath and gasps.

A moan escaped Dean’s lips when Cas slid his hand over Dean’s, adjusting their hands to grip tighter, the way they both enjoyed. Dean was close. A few more strokes and Dean was coming over their hands, causing Cas to mewl as Dean’s come was slathered over his cock, making his mind go white with lust and his balls drawing up, his release a breath away.

All it took was Dean’s thumb stroking over Cas’s cock head, and Cas was arching like a bow, coming in hot bursts to join Dean’s.

Slowly, the men came down from their highs, both of them breathing hard, the need for air only overrun by the need for a kiss, a mutual ‘I love you like this’ that could only be expressed in the little pecks in moments like this. Content and sated, removed from the rest of the world.

“Good morning Dean.”

Dean, honest to God, giggled.

***


	37. The Games We Play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Teen and up  
> Word count: 500  
> implied sex, much talk about hard-ons, teasing

Albeit perfectly adjusted to Castiel’s personal space- issues, it sometimes became a problem. It was just so much you could be in close proximity to the most gorgeous person alive, Dean’s humble opinion, and not pop an inappropriate chubby. Especially when said person stood behind you in the line and sneaked his fingers unassumingly under Dean’s shirt and beneath the waistband of his jeans to press his fingers to the faint marks he'd sucked there. It was inevitable for all of Dean’s blood to head South, right here, and there were only three more people in front of them.

Dean tried swallowing, but only managed to choke a bit on his own tongue. He tried thinking about other things, but Cas made that impossible with squeezing a little as soon as Dean so much as caught a glimpse of baseball statistics with his mind’s eye. In these moments, Dean was hard pressed to believe Cas didn’t actually read his mind.

To make matters worse, Cas shuffled closer, close enough to murmur in Dean’s ear. But it wasn’t even the words that made matters worse. It was the low rumble of Cas’s voice right in his ear that got a shiver run through him, his arms breaking in goose bumps and his cock definitely interested, thank you very much. Soon there would not be a way to hide it. No amount of subtle adjusting would fool anyone, but Dean wanted his burger, almost as much as he wanted to turn around and dry-hump Cas like the madman he felt he was turning into.

“Do you remember this one?” Cas asked lowly, a growl in Dean’s ears that forced him to suck in a breath. He turned slightly, careful not to dislodge Cas’s hand; “Is it hot in here?”

A part of Dean wanted to tell Cas to shut up, but the madman in him just wanted to beg him to never stop. And granted, if one were inclined to see it in that kind of light, Dean deserved this. He’d done the same to Cas a couple days back and forced him to go pay for the gas with his face bright red and stumbling over his feet. All with a few well timed promises. That he’d kept. Every last one of them, and he got the hickies to prove it.

Dean glanced up to see Cas’s face, all stoic and customer-y, looking to all the word like he was only pondering what he wanted with his meat and grease like everyone else. A quick check revealed there being only one more person before them. How long had Dean been lost in the touch of Cas’s fingers and the lull of his voice? Yeah, Cas absolutely still had issues with personal space...

“Double or nothing?” Cas whispered, much to Dean’s shock. Now, he was sporting the most embarrassing boner known to man, and he was next. But if Cas was being serious…

“Cas, let’s get the hell out of here. _Now_.”

***


	38. In The Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 300  
> Oral sex in the Impala, needy Cas

It was quick and dirty, sure, but it happened to suit both their needs – Dean’s need to get off, and Cas’s yearning to be flooded with Dean, so parking the Impala to the side of the road had seemed a feasible choice.

In the darkness Cas was guided by Dean’s voice, the noises he made while Cas sucked his cock, suckling on the tip, before lunging forth and swallowing it down, alternating between the two until he could hear the telltale small mewls, could feel Dean tense beneath his ministrations, small thrusts and a welcomed hand to Cas’s head, Deans fingers seeking for purchase in Cas’s hair.

Cas was hard in his slacks, fumbling to rip open the zipper and free himself, so close to coming just from this, the intensity of Dean’s presence in this moment all the aphrodisiac he could ever ask for. The taste of his man on his tongue, and soon, blessedly, he would get more.

“Cas, I’m gonna come,” Dean gasped, powerless to do more than to breath and hold on for the ride.

Cas whined in response, encouraging, hand on cock, feeling each miniscule tremble as Dean’s come pulsed into his mouth, flooding his senses with all the things that made humanity so very beautiful for Castiel – Dean.

Each string of come was swallowed diligently, Cas making sure not a droplet went to waste, and with his eyes closed, he relinquished Dean’s cock and pressed his nose against the wiry hair in Dean’s groin.

Inhaling deep, filling his lungs with even more Dean, his own orgasm sparked through his spine, the built-up electricity reaching a point where sweet release awaited, and Cas shot his come over his hand in rapid fire bursts, a testament to the urgency of it all. Quick, dirty, and wonderful.

 ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm open to prompts, so if there's something you'd like me to write about, please, do leave one or three in the comments ♥


	39. Starlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 500  
> fluff, fluff and more fluff

While having learnt how to accomplish sleep, sometimes Castiel preferred staying awake and assuming his old habit of observing Dean in his sleep.

This was one of those nights – the waning moon providing enough light in the motel room for Cas to see clearly, perfect for tracing all the contours of Dean’s face, shadows cast in the blue luminescence, highlighting places that were too easily overlooked in bright daylight. Even Dean’s freckles were visible to the keen eye, the constellations giving Cas glimpses into worlds only visible to him, realms humans couldn’t even begin to imagine.

Dean refused to hear about it, how Cas appreciated Dean’s form, how, in Cas’s eyes, Dean was perfect, but when the tables were turned, Dean was hard pressed to find a flaw in Cas either, so it was an ongoing debate between the men. Some day, Cas had vowed, he was going to show Dean exactly what it was that he saw himself. He’d just have to find a way to do it, convincing enough to settle the dispute once and for all.

With a light finger, Castiel smoothed out the faint lines formed on Dean’s forehead in his sleep, careful not to disturb him. Tracing Dean’s jawline, the roughness of Dean’s stubble sent a shiver through Cas, the coarse feel so at odds with the softness of the night-shaded lines and the peace Dean had come to find when they lay like this, Cas by his side.

It was all hard lines during daytime, all senses honed to expect the worst, but here, Dean was safe.

Once a duty, today something Castiel did instinctively – a human instinct – protect the ones you love. And he loved, he loved. From the deepest parts of his being, his love was in his fingertips, and Cas could only hope Dean could feel it the way it was meant to be felt; As a constant, the basis of everything, bedrock of being… No, freedom _to_ be exactly who he was. It was, after all, what Dean had given Cas.

Cas, entranced with Dean’s visage in the moonlight, came back to this earth with a slight start as he realized he was staring into Dean’s open eyes. Bright and dark in the gloom, they glinted with mischief; “You think too loud. Can’t sleep.”

“My apologies, I was –“

“Shut it. Nobody’s sorry for anything. Just… come here you.” Dean flung his arm out for Cas to pillow his head on and circled his other arm around him, drawing him closer and hooking a leg over Cas’s. “Shut your eyes, and go to sleep. That’s an order.” Dean mumbled good-humoredly against Cas’s shoulder scrunching his nose and mushing his face to Cas’s skin to scratch it.

Cas huffed a laugh, adjusting a little to get comfortable and relaxed, cocooned in Dean, his nose nearly touching Dean’s clavicle. “I don’t want to sleep, Dean. I want to watch.”

“Tough titties, Mister Philosopher.”

Cas succumbed to sleep with a smile on his face.

***


	40. With You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 200  
> top!Cas, schmoopy sex

Cas was taking his sweet time fucking into Dean, Dean’s legs open as wide as they’d go, opening himself fully for the welcomed intrusion. Delighting in the fullness it always brought with Cas deep inside him, Dean felt almost delirious with the lust he felt for the angel.

Dean forced his eyes open to find Cas looking right back at him, mouth open to let out the panting breaths, jaw slack with pleasure.

Dean bit his lip, pushing back to meet Cas’s thrust, and moved a hand between them, neglecting his own leaking cock to find where they were connected.

Slicked, hard heat caught Dean’s fingers when he touched Cas’s cock in mid-thrust, inadvertently halting him, holding their gaze.

Cas closed his eyes briefly against the impatience, to calm down and come down from the edge he was climbing, meeting Dean in this place of awe, concentrating on the way Dean slid a finger around his own open hole, touching them both where they were connected.

Dean’s eyes were wide, nearly glazed over, caught lip let go to let out a blissed out an enticing groan, inviting Cas to kiss him. To join them in every way possible. To belong.

***


	41. Small Blessings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 300  
> fluff

In a word, it was post-hunt weariness that had taken over Dean. Tired and foggy-minded, not willing to do much other than to slump down and slouch for the rest of ever, he didn’t even care about their lodgings; A dreary old house they’d squatted in for the few past days, their only accommodations being a few pillows strewn across the floor and a barrel in which to burn a fire against the cold of the nights.

Sam had too it upon himself to go find them something to eat, gaining grateful looks from both Cas and Dean, leaving the two to their own devices.

Dean was sitting cross-legged on a pillow on the dusty floor while Cas got the fire going, the heat roaring in mere seconds, chasing away the rapidly setting chill.

They’d brought in blankets from the Impala, and it was one of those Cas now picked from the pile and sat next to Dean, almost oblivious to their surroundings being so bleak, and more fixed on the warmth, the promise of food, and the companionship. He was happy.

Cas flung out the blanket and patted his knee, earning him a pleased smile from Dean, who took the clue and laid on his back, head nested in Cas’s lap.

Cas covered Dean with the blanket, sneaking his hand against Dean’s chest under the covers, his smile crinkling his eyes when Dean took it in his own, petting the back of Cas’s hand with his thumb.

Dean’s eyes were drooping closed unwillingly, feeling like every bone in his body was slowly starting to melt pleasantly, aches and cold disappearing by the second. Comfortable against all odds.

Other hand coursing through Dean’s head soothingly, Cas’s voice seemed distant, dreamy, and like a lullaby; “I’ll wake you when Sam returns.”

***


	42. Like A Lightning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 300  
> bottom!Cas

Dean was lying flat on his back as Cas was doing all the work, riding Dean’s cock at a steady pace, chest to chest with Dean, arms wrapped around each other, Cas’s head tilted so that each breath and sound, groan and mewl, went straight to Dean’s cock, making his toes curl with a deep moan that launched itself from deep within Cas.

Scrunching his eyes shut, Dean tried to stave off the flush of absolute pleasure threatening to push him over the edge, torn with wanting to ride the wave with Cas and just wanting to come _right now,_ when Cas made the decision for him and sat up in Dean’s lap.

Palms to Dean’s chest, Cas started to rock up and down, an obscene moan reverberating through the air for Dean to enjoy with each downward stroke, Cas’s hips working in small circles, setting a frantic pace and inviting Dean to start pistoning his hips, getting deeper and faster in the glorious pressure Castiel so freely offered.

Cas’s breath was a continuous moan, face twisted in pleasure, baring his teeth, right before he threw his head back, spilling his seed on Deans abdomen with nigh a howl as he felt the pulsing of Dean’s release inside him.

Hips stilling slowly, Cas fucked down a few more times, enjoying the oversensitive feel of Dean’s cock brushing over his prostate. The high of having been fucked through his orgasm left his sight blurry and his mind hazy, a dreamy smile playing on his lips when he closed his eyes and squeezed around Dean one more time.

With no intention on never moving ever again, Dean petted his hands over Cas’s sides, a thumb brushing over sweaty skin, before he coaxed Cas to lay atop him. Calm after storm. At peace.

***


	43. Little Things You Do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count:100  
> fluff

It was the simplest thing; Holding hands. Just sitting there, in a diner booth, on a nondescript, ordinary day, and taking Cas’s hand into his own. Just their fingers intertwined, palms pressed together, and Dean felt grounded, serene, even. Far removed from what the day brought, ready for it, whatever it was, as long as he could just take Cas’s hand and hold it, feel the warmth, the solidity, in more ways than one.

Castiel squeezed Dean’s hand as if in confirmation, rousing Dean to look him in the face. It was the simplest thing; Looking into each other’s eyes…

***


	44. Unfathomable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 700  
> Feat. Baby  
> fluff, humor? Very minor amount of angst, but you'll have to squint to see it.

Cas had been continuously intrigued by Dean’s love for his car. While Dean’s insistence that baby took him from ‘zero to fuck yeah!’ in three seconds seemed a very slow and insufficient means of traveling, and though Cas had grown accustomed to riding in cars, it was really nothing special at all. He couldn’t even begin to fathom how anyone could claim to actually loving an inanimate object.

“Just look at her, Cas. _Really_ look, and tell me what you see,” Dean had tried, becoming more frustrated by the second, since the presentation of the inner workings under Baby’s hood hadn’t done nothing for Cas. All he’d earned was a weary glance, a quick schooling of Cas’s features to utterly confused, and they were right where they’d started; Cas just didn’t get it.

It was weird, but since Cas, Dean had started to accept, loved Dean, it was only fair he also felt that way about Baby. They came as a package deal, and Dean felt insulted in Baby’s behalf Cas didn’t understand even the concept of how awesome she was. It was only a step removed from spitting on her, standing there like that with empty eyes and a frown on his face.

Cas did earn many a brownie points for trying though. That’s why Dean pushed on; “Come on. Yeah, go ahead and squint if you have to. It’s right there, _come on,_ man.”

Castiel, actually squinting at Baby, drew in a deep breath and tilted his head to the side, like seeing her (why she had a gender to begin with, Cas had no earthly idea,) from a different angle would make any difference.

“It’s a… _She’s_ a… Car. She doesn’t do anything unless you make it. I’m sorry, Dean, but I just don’t understand. Maybe I’m not supposed to—”

“Doesn’t _do_ anything?! What do you mean she doesn’t _do_ anything? She does exactly what she’s supposed to!”

Dean spluttered some, baffled, eyes wide and trying his damnest to wrap his brain around what he’s just heard, and trying to decide if he was entitled to a small revenge like maybe ‘accidentally’ stepping on Cas’s heels, to avenge Baby. Jesus.

Cas turned from Dean and squinted some more, before walking to the passenger door and opening it. “I’m _trying_ , Dean.”

Dean hauled himself inside the car righteously, careful not to slam the door closed too hard, and waved Cas to step in too.

When Cas was seated, it was Dean’s turn to take a deep breath, and a moment, before he faced the clueless angel again. “My whole life is in this car, Cas. I grew up with her. She’s been good to me. And Sam. She’s rocked me to sleep more times I even dare think, and taken me everywhere I’ve ever had to be. What’s not to love?”

Dean was met with silence, Cas staring at the dashboard in deep thought. A minute passed, a half of a another, and Cas lifted a hand to touch the door, brushing his fingers under the window, and turned to look at Dean with something like understanding lighting behind his eyes.

“So it’s about the memories and not the car herself.”

“ _No_ , Cas, no, you still don’t—”

“Dean.” With that, Cas shut Dean up and got his attention. “What I’m saying is that maybe, if I got memories of my own, I’d be better equipped to feel what you feel. See what you see. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Dean choked out under Cas’s intense gaze and cleared his throat. “Yes, that would probably help.”

Without another word, Cas leaned towards Dean, Dean instantly cluing in and following Cas’s cue, meeting him halfway in a kiss.

Cas kissed Dean slowly, softly, almost reverently, and Dean held him close, deepening the kiss unhurriedly. They had the rest of the day, the rest of forever, if they chose to, and Dean wanted Cas’s first time understanding, his first real memory of Baby to be a good one. For it sure as hell was good for Dean. Even better than most.

It would become a very deliberate string of memories. Good and bad. And Cas loved her for it.

***


	45. What CasWants, Cas Gets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 600  
> explicit oral sex, needy!Cas

Sometimes Cas had this persistent thought that interrupted even the more solemn situations; How he could be on his knees in front of Dean, sucking him down and enjoying the fruits of his labor, Dean rewarding Cas’s parching thirst and coming on his tongue, giving Cas exactly what he needed.

Inappropriate thoughts, to be sure, private, and more than mere fantasies. Like now, alone with Dean at last, Dean’s cock lodged deep in Cas’s throat and fucking in steadily, Cas looking up through his lashes and working his tongue over the silken skin, hands on Dean’s ass to encourage him to fuck deeper, to give Cas more.

It was remarkable what angel could do with his mouth, when one didn’t particularly _need_ to breath, and Dean had learned to take full and unashamed advantage of that. Dean was thrusting deep enough to be in full length, Cas’s eyes sliding closed with pleasure, a whimper raising from his throat to run through Dean’s cock, making it jerk hard in response. It made Cas suck harder, greedily, obscene slurping sounds filling the air as Dean picked up his pace, grinning wide, eyes alight with pure adoration.

Cas made a needy noise in the back of his throat and let go of Dean’s ass in favor of palming Dean’s sack, fondling, caressing, and filled with anticipation as Dean’s balls drew up, indicating his inevitable orgasm.

Pushing his fingers gently behind Dean’s balls and rubbing down, Cas elicited a breathless cry from Dean, his voice having gone to a constant, growling moan.

Dean grabbed a handful of Cas’s hair and steadied him, keeping him still once he pushed in one final time, as deep as he’s go, Cas’s nose pressed against Dean’s belly, cutting him from the air he didn’t need.

In the same instant Dean drew back, leaving only the head of his cock nestled in Cas’s mouth, Cas suckling rhythmically, eyes closed and his hands grabbing Dean’s ass, grateful of the bitter, creamy taste of Dean on his tongue, his thirst quenched, his hunger fed, his craving of _this_ , of _Dean_ momentarily fulfilled. Cas’s own cock was so hard it almost hurt.

Cas licked into the hole of Dean’s cock, playing with the oversensitive flesh and making sure he got every drop that he considered rightfully his, mind a whirlwind of sated and unslaked lust.

In a state of mind where Cas was unable to make the decision, Dean made it for him, leaving the warmth of Cas’s mouth and dropping to his knees in front of Cas.

With a gentle but persuasive hand, Dean nudged Cas back to lean onto his hands, effectively offering himself to Dean, Cas’s cock flushed red and leaking profusely, pulsing in time with Cas’s heart.

Dean didn’t waste time, knowing how much Cas needed a relief, and swept down to take Cas into his mouth, sucking once before Cas’s cock twitched hard, shooting a plentiful load into Dean’s mouth while Cas’s back curved like a bow.

Hips thrusting, Cas emptied himself on Dean’s ready tongue, Dean humming, pleased, and running his hands over Cas’s tense thighs.

Dean swallowed his mouthful and licked the remnants from Cas’s cock, then straightened himself, hooking an arm around Cas’s back to bring him up with him.

Cas sighed deeply and fluttered his eyes open, meeting Dean’s gaze with an incredibly coy smile for someone who sucked cock like a champ.

Dean answered with a smirk, taking a deep breath himself to calm down, and silently marveled at all that was Castiel. It was impossible not to kiss his angel silly.

***


	46. The Sunshine Of Your Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 200  
> fluff

Research was, and would probably always be, a vital part of a hunter’s life. Which is why Dean and Cas were sitting in the bunker library, poring over an ancient tome over an old book after another in the middle of the night.

Cas glimpsed at Dean, unable to stop it from turning into straightforward staring the moment he saw the shadows cast on Dean’s face.

They brought into sharp relief each and every contour, all the angles created by his intense focus, the slight frown of trying to decipher what he was reading. Cas was enthralled.

There was such beauty in this, how Dean did what he did without ever asking for anything in return, always giving from the heart. Standing silent guard when darkness was about to engulf the world.

Cas’s heart thumped harder, unexplainable warmth spreading through his limbs, and he was unable to look away. Not now, when Dean reached for his glass of whiskey without even glancing up from his reading, his throat working once, twice, before setting the drink back down.

If Castiel had ever known anything, it was this; It was a privilege to love Dean Winchester and to be loved in return.

***


	47. One Of Those Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 300  
> top!Cas

Dean was rocking back on his knees to get Cas in nice and deep, each thrust pushing a groan out of him.

Cas had his fingers holding on to Dean’s hips hard while he met his thrusts, making Dean moan and beg for it. Cas loved seeing Dean like this, back glistening with sweat, voice growing harder,  demanding and needy, asking for something only Cas could give. Something only Cas was allowed to give.

It wouldn’t take long before Cas would give in and fulfill Dean’s demands to make him come. He would never deny him.

Dean, enjoying the feel of Cas inside him to the fullest in heated desperation, sped things up, starting a staccato rhythm, fucking himself hard on Cas's cock, the shallow thrusts hitting their target dead on, making Dean whine with every breath, keening, feeling like an animal in heat with Cas being the only one to ever tame him.

Knowing exactly what Dean needed, Cas let go of his hip and reached down for Dean’s cock, wrapping his fingers tight around the length for Dean to fuck into. Only seconds later, they were both coming, Dean pulsing around Cas’s cock, his cry for Cas, it all balling into a moment of bliss that could never be found anywhere else.

After a minute of hard breathing, Dean laid down on his stomach slowly, his trembling arms threatening to give away, already mourning the loss of Cas inside him and knowing it wouldn’t be long until he got to feel it again. It was becoming one of those days when they’d be fucking like bunnies,  unable to keep their hands off each other, if the promising grin on Cas’s flushed face was anything to go by, as he laid down next to Dean to gather his breath.

***


	48. Deanmon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 800  
> Warning: demon!Dean, angst, wingless Cas.  
> But! Happy ending, and Sam makes an appearance!

The air hung heavy in the bunker’s library. No one could have expected for it to come to this. Not _this_.

”Sammy. I’m sorry,” Dean said, struggling to keep his eyes green, and failing, the surface stubbornly turning to glassy black time and time again. “All the things I’ve done, all the things I want to do still… Cas was wrong. I’m the abomination in this family. Have been from the start. You have to do this.”

“But there’s still places we haven’t looked, there has to be something, there has to be—”

“The fucking blood-fix didn’t work! It worked on Crowley, for God’s sakes, but not me. Dean placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder in a foolish attempt to placate him. “You know as well as I do we’ve exhausted every resource I didn’t slaughter personally. There’s nothing more to do. You have to, Sam. It’s either this, or…Yeah. No. No more.”

In a gesture expressing the futility of it all, Dean cupped Sam’s face briefly, trying not to see the resignation and the tears welling in Sam’s eyes. Dean tried a sympathetic smile which barely managed to lift the corner of his mouth. The last vestiges of Dean’s empathy were draining out by the second.

“There is no ‘either’, you know that. Send me where I belong and throw away the key.” Cold fear was etched deep into Dean’s features as he let go of Sam’s shoulder and took a step back. Hell wasn’t pleasant, not even for a demon.

“Please. Do it before Cas gets here. Otherwise it’ll never get done. He doesn’t…” Dean closed his eyes, and for a heartbeat that seemed to last an eternity, Dean Winchester, the big brother of Sam Winchester, was just that; Asking for a favor of his kid brother, counting on Sam to handle things. Trusting that Sam would make things right.

“Please, Sammy.”

Dean didn’t open his eyes when Sam started the first wavering, broken words of the exorcism. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus--”

“Stop! Sam! What are you doing?! Stop! _Right now_!” With a loud bang, the door to the library swung open, revealing a disheveled, out-of-breath Castiel, a book dropping, forgotten, from his hand as he rushed to clasp a hand over Sam’s mouth, gasping, sheer horror and unspeakable pain in his eyes; “ _We have a way_.”

“What!?” Dean’s eyes flung open, battling his demonic instinct to hurt the not-quite-angel in favor of listening to his lover.

Glancing at Dean, then at Sam’s eyes, wide as saucers, Cas hurried to explain. “It’s unprecedented, but there’s one more chance. I think it might work.”

“You think?” Dean gritted his teeth against the phantom feel of the First Blade pressed into his hand. “Cas… Out with it!”

“My blood,” Cas hastened to add, removing his trembling hand from Sam’s mouth and staring into Dean’s black eyes unwaveringly. “Sam’s blood didn’t work, but I still have enough grace left to revert the changes, to untwist your soul, if you will.”

Sam didn’t get a chance to get a word in edgewise before Cas continued, animated as he pointed towards Dean and then himself repeatedly, rattling off his plan in the manner of a machine gun. “My blood will purify yours, tainted as it is, and it should be relatively painless, as there’s not much grace involved. It certainly won’t kill you, and the Universe’s eternal penchant for balance will even it out and make you completely human again.” Cas’s voice dropped down to a whisper. “Get rid of the Mark.”

At Dean’s blank stare, Sam shuffled his feet, glancing at his brother uncertainly. “We could at least try it.” The tear tracks on his face hadn’t even had time to dry yet, and his mind was in a severe state of whiplash, but Sam felt hope blooming in his chest. He had a chance to get his brother back.

Cas swallowed hard before offering tentatively, “If you’re willing to give it a go, I have everything set up for the transfusion in the infirmary.”

Dean, speechless, grabbed Cas’s face between his hands and kissed him deeply, sighing through his nose the groan of the eternally tormented, almost reluctant to let Cas go, while Cas held onto him just as tightly. Moments passed, Dean and Cas pressing their foreheads together, Cas whispering “We can do this, Dean,” while smoothing his hand down and up Dean’s back reassuringly. “We can do this.”

Dean started at the door wordlessly, Castiel sprinting into motion right behind him.

As Sam trotted a few steps behind, he could barely hear it, as the question the demon asked was quiet, but he couldn’t help but to smile when the words drifted through the air.

“Um... Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“What, exactly, do you mean by ‘relatively painless?’”

***


	49. Your Light My Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Teen  
> Word count: 400  
> fluffity fluff

Once Dean had introduced Cas to the wonders of the water pressure in the bunker’s shower, it had been but a few times he’d taken a lonely shower since. Cas enjoyed showering as much as Dean did, and sometimes Dean had to suspect the angel might like it even more.

This might have something to do with the royal treatment Dean bestowed on him, but who cloud blame him for wanting to shove his fingers into that hair, travel his soapy hands all over Cas’s body, clean him up, only to dirty him again.

When Dean had announced he was hitting the shower, it was in the same breath that Cas informed him of his intentions of joining him. Dean nearly skipped his way to the bathroom.

Water was beating down on Cas’s back as he stood before Dean, head bowed for Dean to shampoo his hair, eyes closed and totally relaxed, pliant under Dean’s touch.

Dean brushed through the strands of hair gently, caressing, treasuring each second as he went, pushing back the fronds from Cas’s forehead and guiding him under the stream of water to rinse off. They were getting to Dean’s favorite part.

Cas’s blissed-out sigh echoing in the room, Dean smiled and grabbed the soap, lathering his hands, and got to work on Cas’s torso.

He slid his palms across Cas’s shoulders and down his chest, flicking each nipple playfully as he went, earning a chuckle from Cas, and warm hands to his waist.

Dean watched the froth sluice down the curve of Cas’s hip over his tattoo, and he longed to trace it with his tongue, especially when Cas tightened his hold, pulling Dean under the shower, wrapping his arms around him.

Dean had been so preoccupied with his ministrations he’d entirely forgotten about himself, which became obvious when his cock brushed against Cas’s, pleasantly snuggling against each other, both of them sporting half hard-ons.

It was the ease of it that made Dean swoon. The familiarity with which Cas pressed his wet lips against Dean’s, tongue flicking out to nudge Dean’s mouth open. It made Dean dizzy how spectacularly unhurried it was, how there was no pressure, no frantic, groping hands. Just this feeling of… presence that Dean wanted to curl up in and never let go.

Dean had to swallow and close his eyes tightly the moment he realized he’d never have to.

***


	50. What's On?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Teen for language  
> Word count: 400  
> wingless!Cas, Metatron mentioned, angsting, though supposed to be really fluffy. Uh.

Dean was still pissed off at Metatron, for more reasons than one. Sure, the Heaven-business was severe enough on its own, Cas’s grace, totally, but what right did the asshole have to put all that information about pop culture into Cas’s head? None, that’s what.

The way Dean saw it, it was his business to do that, and he’d done a fairly good job at it too. They’d have some seriously hilarious philosophical conversations when Cas had first seen Tom & Jerry cartoons, and hadn’t been fooled for a minute when they’d both seen Shutter Island for the very first time.

Dean had been working towards the classics carefully, tasting the air to know where to start, really make an impact on Cas, have him relax and enjoy himself, instead of just forcing him to sit through hours of film under some misguided sense of obligation.

Not that Dean wanted to sound like a petulant child, but the huge fuck called Metatron had simply taken his _fun_ away. So there.

Dean and Cas had talked about it, like adults, mind you, right after Dean had pouted about it for about a week, and Dean had come to terms with what had happened. Cas was right, it could’ve been worse, there were worse things in the world than information on trivial things injected into your brain, and wasn’t that just the cherry on top? The real kicker? Cas, with his dwindling grace was being graceful as ever, while Dean kicked and screamed like a goddamn four-year-old. But there was only so much fun he had these days, and he felt robbed and somehow deeply violated, so there was only so much he could do about it.

Like now, for example, the TV droning on in front of him, sitting on the couch, mulling on it all over again and rubbing his face in frustration and fantasizing about wringing stupid fucking Metatron’s stupid fucking neck.

Dean leaned back and sighed, dropping his head on the back of the couch, eyes pressed shut, fatigued.

His eyes popped open when Cas snuck up and planted an upside-down kiss on his mouth with a smack, a bowl of popcorn in hand, and a comforting, sort of understanding smirk on his face.

“You know, Dean…” Cas dropped a popcorn into Dean’s mouth and plopped down beside him. “I haven’t seen the latest season of Dr. Sexy yet.”

***


	51. All My Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating:Explicit  
> Word count: 500  
> anal fingering, teasing, bottom!Dean

It was almost lazy, yet, the kissing, and the way Cas rested his slicked middle finger inside Dean’s ass, unhurried. Dean squeezed around the finger, promising to take good care of Cas once they got there, but right now he was going to enjoy this to the fullest.

Cas liked to take his time opening Dean up, loving the way Dean groaned as the small intrusion of a single finger wasn’t enough, but the man refused to beg for more just yet. The languid kisses, their tongues sliding, tasting and wet, open-mouthed breaths shared, a small whine rising from Cas’s own throat when Dean pushed back on his hand, taking the finger as deep as it’d go.

Laying naked on the bed, face to face, Dean’s leg was slung high over Cas’s hip, offering himself to be played with, while their cocks brushed together with each miniscule movement.

Cas licked into Dean’s mouth once more before drawing back a little, just enough to see Dean’s face as Cas started to push another finger in, steady, into the loving heat of Dean’s body, his ass engulfing the offering eagerly and his eyes fluttering closed with a deep sigh and a beatific smile playing on his lips. Cas thrust in a little harder, gaining Dean to thrust back, then forward, picking up a slow pace to fuck himself on Cas’s fingers while the angel watched in rapture.

The look on Dean’s face was captivating, mouth slightly open and eyelids shut lightly as Dean concentrated on the delightful, growing fullness, his chest starting to go flushed and his cock leaking precome on Cas’s cock. Cas moved his fingers intently, Dean’s moan confirming that he found what he was looking for, loving how playing with Dean’s prostate made his cock leak constantly.

“Do you want more?” Cas asked softly, already knowing the answer, but it was all part of the teasing, both giving the other what they needed, at the pace they most needed it. And Cas needed to see Dean panting for his cock.

“Yes, goddamit, please!” Dean ground out on a groan, clasping on the digits inside him, becoming gradually impatient. God, the heat pooling in his stomach was dizzying. Dean reached behind himself, following Cas’s hand to his asshole, and pushed one of his own fingers in, side by side with Cas’s. “Please, Cas. _More_.”

Dean was whining already, moving his hips back and forth to get friction on his dripping cock, sighing happily when Cas responded with a thrust of his own, his cock nearly as wet as Dean’s, and the hot flesh pressed blessedly against Dean’s.

His sigh became a low, keening moan, when Cas pulled his fingers back and added a third one, carefully pushing them in to join Dean’s own, them finding a rhythm to fuck his ass together. “I need your cock, Cas. It’s not enough. I need more of _you_.”

“Shh, Dean,” Cas soothed Dean with a kiss. “You’ll have all of me. I promise.”

***


	52. It's A Gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 400  
> semi-public sex, hand jobs, clothed sex

It had been years they’d been together, but when the mood struck, it struck like a lightning. They knew full well they were acting like horny teenagers, but neither Dean nor Cas cared. Only thing that mattered was that one second they were at a gas station, minding their business, peacefully pondering the merits of Cheetos over cheddar popcorn, what drinks they’d fancy, and the next, their eyes were locked onto each other’s, their surroundings forgotten, shifty gazes shot around to locate the bathroom, fingers itching to touch _right this minute_ , and it was all they could do not to dash too obviously to the relative privacy of the restrooms.

From there on it was all heat, all boundaries dropped, hands grabbing handfuls of fabric to reach skin, mouths latched together while their shortened breaths came in gasps, cocks hard and aching to be freed from their confines.

Cas’s nimble fingers worked Dean’s jeans open, yanking down his briefs in one go, while Dean did the same with Cas, positively trembling with feverish lust.

Dean pushed Cas against the door, having the presence of mind to actually lock it, before taking a hold of Cas’s ramrod rigid cock, already blushed prettily, making Dean’s mouth water.

Cas pulled Dean against him hard, demanding his cock against his own, and wrapped a hand around both their cocks, pressing his thumb to their slits, mixing their precome and painting their cocks with it the best he could to ease the way.

Dean fought to stay quiet, putting his hand to join Cas’s, together forming a snug tunnel for them to the friction they were burning for, easing his other hand to fondle Cas’s heavy-hanging balls, weighing them on his palm, pressing his fingers between them, and behind. Dean felt he could come just from one long moan from Cas, but it was a luxury they couldn’t afford.

Cas bit his lip, then flung his free arm around Dean’s shoulders, bringing his neck closer, and began to muffle his panting moans against Dean’s skin, sucking down hard while their hands worked in unison.

It took less than three minutes for Cas to shoot his load on Dean’s cock and abdomen, making Dean turn his head and bite down on Cas’s shoulder as his ejaculation was straight out ripped from his core.

Dean pressed his forehead against Cas’s, grinning mischievously; “I can’t take you _anywhere_.”

***


	53. Lazy Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 700  
> fluff, total and complete self-indulgence on my part :D

Lazing around between hunts was the best in Dean’s opinion. Just lying on the couch and napping, maybe a bottle of beer to sip from planted on his chest, just listening to silence for a bit, while Cas and Sam were geeking stuff out someplace. It was the best. Homey, comfortable, and doing absolutely nothing, just how Dean liked it.

Dean startled with a snoring sound from his slumber when Cas approached, standing there in front of the couch and a look on his face that spoke of grave thoughts. The angel was actually chewing on his lip, as if trying out words to best break the bad news to Dean. And Dean was sitting up like an arrow, instantly on high alert; “What is it? Spit it out, man.”

Castiel didn’t say anything, just shifted his eyes from the floor to stare at Dean, indecisiveness marring his features.

“Come on, Cas. Just lay it on me. I’m sure I can take it.” After all, how bad could it be?

“There’s something I’ve wanted to ask you for a while now,” Cas cleared his throat and raised a pacifying hand to Dean, easing his anxiety just like that. On a second look, Cas didn’t seem as worried as… Nervous.

Dean could only look on as things unfolded, how Cas knelt on one knee before Dean, hand in a fist around something. “I don’t know how to ask, but I know I want to.” Cas held Dean’s gaze, placing a hand on Dean’s knee, rubbing his thumb over the fabric of his jeans nervously. “Dean Winchester. Will you do me the courtesy of wearing this, as a token of my heart belonging to you?”

Cas opened his hand, revealing a white-gleaming ring on his palm.

Dean’s eyes shot wide, his jaw working to find his words. _Any_ words would do just fine.

“Are you… Is this an engagement-thing?” It wasn’t that he was averse to the idea, had entertained it himself a time or two, but it was certainly a surprise. A pleasant one. But from the look on Cas’s face, that maybe wasn’t clear to _him_ , so Dean hastened to rectify the situation, sliding down the couch, onto his knees in front of Cas, taking the hand Cas was offering the ring with.

Gently, Dean brushed his fingers over Cas’s, not closing their hands in a fist, not hiding the ring from view, but really looking at it, like he’d never looked at a ring before.

Everything seemed to slow down, and once Dean looked up into Cas’s eyes again, the color of them had darkened with emotion. For the life of him, Dean couldn’t decipher what it was. He’d just said yes, hadn’t he? He’d told him that, hadn’t he?

…Oh.

“Yes! Cas, yes, I’d be proud to wear your ring,” Dean hastened to place a hand against Cas’s cheek, cupping his face, and felt like a ton of rocks shifted from his heart when Cas’s eyes turned round, a flicker of disbelief rapidly changing into awe and joy.

Cas collected his wits, gathering Dean’s left hand into his own, and smiled, “May I?”

“Yes,” Dean tried to keep his voice level. “Yes, Cas. Always.”

Cas slipped the ring on Dean’s finger, then placed a chaste kiss to it, and moved to get up, taking Dean with him, promptly losing his balance when Dean had other ideas, and dragged Cas down on the couch, to lay on top of him with matching grins alighting their faces.

Cas went willingly, scooting about to better rest his head on Dean’s chest, in his embrace, the nerves he’d felt before flying away with each passing moment.

“Where’d you get it?” Dean almost whispered, checking out his new snazzy jewelry. It really was something else.

“I made it.”

“What?”

“Yes,” Cas lift his head to look at Dean, “I smelted an angel blade. That’s what it’s made of. Sam helped with the casting.”

“Sam knew about this?”

“He did, and was very supportive. I owe him my thanks. We made bullets from the rest of the blade.”

Dean giggled, happy and _Cas’s_ , sinking his fingers in his fiancé’s hair. “Of course you did.”

***


	54. Spill It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 300  
> bottom!Cas, come eating

Cas gasped for breath between moans as Dean pounded into him, his legs hoisted high up on Dean’s shoulders, Cas’s ass lifting off the bed to give Dean the best leverage possible.

The relentless brush of Dean’s cock to Cas’s prostate was making his blood boil, heat coming over him in waves, the air thick with the smell of their love making. He was so close he could taste the copper taste of his impeding orgasm, his ass clenching around Dean’s cock, making Dean fuck him harder, slamming into him brutally, an animalistic glimmer in his eyes as he sped up to a crescendo.

Cas’s eyes slammed shut as he felt Dean coming inside him in hot bursts, Dean’s cock head resting against Cas’s sweet spot, making him see stars as he came without a hand on his cock, all from Dean and Dean alone.

Releasing Dean from his vice grip, Cas slumped his legs down, while Dean extracted himself from Cas’s ass gingerly, regretfully.

Dean laid down alongside Cas, raising onto an elbow and hooking his leg over Cas’s, snuggling close, snuffling against his shoulder in search for his neck, kissing up a trail to his lips, still panting.

Cas petted Dean’s head, delirious with the strength of his orgasm, and captured Dean’s mouth in a lingering kiss, while twirling his fingers in his own cooling come pooling on his abdomen.

Cas raised his fingers to Dean’s mouth, watching keenly as the man leaned his head back to suck on the fingers, licking them clean obscenely, making sure he got every last drop, before smirking and sliding down.

Dean’s tongue darted out as he started to clean up the mess on Cas’s stomach. It was his fault anyway, so it was only right he got to enjoy the spoils.

***


	55. Nothing For The Wicked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 300  
> teasing, Casturbation

Dean had meant it as a joke, he swore to God and country, but now it didn’t seem so funny anymore. Not when after he’d jokingly told Cas to keep his hands to himself, and Cas had all too obediently nearly sat on his hands, watching keenly as Dean got his cock out and started showing off.

He’d loved Cas’s hungry eyes on him, almost felt it caressing his skin as Dean jerked himself slowly, squeezing a drop of precome out. He could hear Cas swallow hard.

It had been all fun and games, but Cas had taken it upon himself to tell Dean go sit in a chair, while Cas himself laid splayed on the bed, naked and hard, fingering himself with lubed fingers, and Dean wasn’t allowed to touch himself _or_ Cas.

Watching, only watching, was sweet agony; Dean’s cock jumped painfully each time Cas let out a gasping, broken moan and his cock drooled precome on his belly. Dean was at the point where he would do anything to have a lick, to suck Cas down, or maybe even feel Cas’s asshole pulse around his tongue as he ate him out.

It was a beautiful sight, Cas holding his cock tightly, moving his other hand to get his fingers deeper, the frustrated whine when it wasn’t enough and the happy sigh when he added another finger.

Dean couldn’t take his eyes off the angel, his turgid, blushing cock, and the way the flush was spreading up to Cas’s face.

Cas’s eyes were wide open, Dean noticed with a start. And though his cock was begging for some relief, Dean couldn’t do that. Not when Cas was staring at him like that, making love to him with his eyes, so confident and _beautiful_ …

“Come here, Dean.”

Dean _flew._

_***_


	56. Good Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 300  
> fluffity fluff, drowsy thoughts

On some days Dean couldn’t wait for the day to end so that he had the excuse to go to bed. Some days, the evenings were the best part that Dean really looked forward to, especially on days as gruesome and bloody as theirs had been, destroying that vamps’ nest and the long drive back to the bunker.

That’s what they did these days, if at all possible; drive back home, instead of hunkering down at the nearest motel, although it wasn’t always in the realm of their possibilities.

And the absolutely brilliant part of this particular day was that it had come to an evening, the lights were off, Dean and Cas had done their evening rituals and slipped under the blankets, their pajama pants close by for them to don them once morning came once again.

Now, it got to Dean’s favorite part; The Snuggling.

Cas, laying on his side, facing Dean, had his arms oven for Dean to shuffle over into the embrace and to hug Cas to his chest, inhale deep the scent that was so thrillingly, uniquely Castiel. Dean got to snuffle against the smooth skin of his neck and close his eyes, to _feel_ Cas entirely, with Cas’s lips pressed to Dean’s forehead.

There wasn’t a place on Earth Dean would rather be. To make it even better, he could just lift his head a bit, and Cas’s lips were right there for Dean to peck little kisses on, make it a little longer, run his hand over Cas’s side, and all that time, he was held onto, held close, his actions reciprocated. This, this peace and calm and _Cas_ , just before Dean fell asleep, was _the_ best. And what made it _even better,_ was that there was always tomorrow. Tomorrows were the _best_.

***


	57. A Small Reminder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 300  
> fluff, possessiveness

” _Fuck_ , Dean.”

It sounded a lot like the word got punched out of Cas, and that was something that happened so rarely, Dean instantly looked up in alarm from trying to see what he was doing while  fiddling with the bowtie that came with the tux.

Cas’s eyes were wide as saucers and he was chewing empty, clearly looking for words that just refused to come to him.

Of course Dean knew he looked nice, that’s why he’d rented the thing, for the fancy thing that he had to go to gain some information while Cas was left behind to go over all the papers, but Cas had seen him in and out of suits for _years_. This couldn’t be something to get worked up about.

But it seemed like Cas begged to differ, judging from the way he forswore words altogether and strode to Dean, transfixed, planting his hand’s to the lapels of the tux almost reverently.

Cas’s hands roamed around carefully, his eyes shining when he captured Dean’s eyes with his own, going only by touch. Cas tucked his hands under the jacket and smoothed his hands against Dean’s back, the warmth together with the predatory gaze and whisper making Dean shiver.

“I can’t wait to take this off of you. I’m going to do it very. Slowly.” Cas’s eyes turned cold for a brief second, then fiery again, making Dean’s stomach do a somersault when his suspicions were confirmed by Cas fingering the top buttons of Dean’s shirt open and sucking a mark there, just out of sight when the shirt was buttoned again. Claiming Dean his. As if there was ever any doubt.

With a devilishly cheeky grin, Dean kissed his agreement, acknowledgement, to Cas’s lips. “Have it your way. Just don’t forget it’s a rental.”

***


	58. Worth The Wait

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 300  
> greedy bottom!Dean

Dean laid on the bed, chest to the sheets and ass in the air, a pillow under his head that he hugged to himself, a smile on his face that spoke volumes of the pleasure he was feeling, the anticipation, while Cas kneaded his back lightly, marveling at the shift of Dean’s muscles with each breath. Cas lowered himself to Dean’s back, thrusting his hips so that his cock brushed Dean’s sack firmly, eliciting a pleased groan from Dean.

Cas ran his hands down Dean’s sides and got up slowly, petting Dean’s skin, never losing contact, and scooted back on his knees, palming his ass and spreading him slightly to better see his handiwork; Dean’s slick asshole, all too empty, readied to take Cas’s cock. It was impossible to resist the temptation, and Cas spread him some more, then kissed a light trail from Dean’s lower back, down to the sensitive skin of his crack, licking here and there where he got Dean sighing into his pillow and wiggling his ass.

Another kiss shy of licking into Dean’s hole, Cas positioned himself so he could slide in Dean, pushing the head of his cock past the rim with little resistance, watching himself bury in deeper into Dean’s hole.

Cas took it slow, drawing back and in again in small strokes, and Dean mewled into his arm, then raised his head to let out a long moan when Cas took mercy on him and slid right in, slowly and surely, and it was everything Dean wanted; to really feel Cas’s cock filling him, splicing him open. Dean couldn’t resist pushing back to get Cas in faster, and Cas complied, filling Dean to the brim, leaving him gasping once Cas’s hips were flush against Dean’s ass.

All Dean could think was; _Yes_.

***


	59. Every Day For Something New

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 300  
> schmoop  
> omg a song!fic :D

Alone with Baby, on the road back to the bunker, Dean belted out Metallica at the top of his lungs, the words to the songs coming to him without having to think about it, familiar like a soft, worn, frumpy and invaluable t-shirt.

The first notes of the next song had Dean nodding his head in a slow rhythm, tapping on the steering wheel, the rest of the song already playing in Dean’s head before James Hetfield even got to start.

Dean nearly slammed the brakes right there, in the midst of the traffic, and only though muscle memory, managed to get the car to park to the side of the road. The song had a meaning.

Of course it had a meaning. All songs have meanings, some deeper than others, but this one was playing on Dean’s heart strings like no music had done before. Because no other music was so incredibly and utterly true. Nothing spoke Dean’s _life_ right back at him like this one.

So Dean leaned his head back breathlessly, and _listened_.

“ _So close no matter how far_ ”

That had Castiel written all over it. The entire song had Castiel woven through it, belonging there.

“ _Never opened myself this way_ ”

Cas had taught Dean how to talk. And not just through words, but through his heart. They truly lived their lives their way.

“ _Trust I seek and I find in you_ ”

It brought tears to Dean’s eyes how hard it hit home. How trust had been one of their biggest issues, how they’d fought to regain it, prove themselves to each other, and they’d _done it_.

It was Cas. In his cassette player. With Dean. Even while away, always near.

“ _And I know_ ”

Dean did know. God he loved Cas so much.

“ _No nothing else matters_ ”

***


	60. These Aren't The Droids You're Looking For

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 600  
> fluff, humor

” _Very Special_ agent Page? Seriously, Cas?” Dean trod along the street with Cas by his side, practically in stitches because of Cas’s antics and, honestly? Cute and adorable attempts at trying to incorporate his newly found knowledge of media, but sometimes it got just a bit too far. Like today, with that witness who started to get suspicious from the moment Cas opened his mouth. Because _nobody_ actually _said_ that. Ever

“Would you have rather preferred the original version, ‘DiNozzo’, then? He’s not a musician, he’s an agent, Dean. A very _special_ agent.” Cas held his ground, the smug little shit seeming very pleased with himself and his practical application of unnecessary information.

Dean chuckled at Cas’s tone, and slung an arm over Cas’s shoulders, bringing them to match their step. “Yeah, whatever, grandpa. Remind me to take away your NCIS privileges.”

Cas glanced at Dean, happy that they ultimately got the information on the shapeshifter they needed, and, granted, a little smug that he got to use his newly gained knowledge. Feeling mischievous, he continued in the same vein; “At least I’m old enough to be someone’s grandpa, young padawan.”

Dean stopped in his tracks, halting Cas with him, aghast. “What did you just say to me? You can be old as dirt, but you do not quote Yoda to me. Ever.”

With a cheeky grin, Cas tried again; “Live long and prosper? To infinity and beyond? ” Cas stepped in front of Dean, close enough to make Dean go cross-eyed when he tried to look into his eyes. Cas stood on his tippy toes, leaning over to Dean’s ear, pecking a kiss there and then whispered, like a terrible secret: “Are these the droids you’re looking for, Dean? Are they?”

Dean’s jaw worked futilely for a second, before he stepped around Cas and yanked him along, Cas’s chuckle making him smile involuntarily. “No, Cas. Just… No. _No_. Before you’ve actually _seen_ that stuff, it’s not right! You have to watch it to _feel_ it. _Then_ you got the right to quote Spock. Before that, not only no, but hell no.”

“I think you’re right, actually.” Cas’s tone had sobered considerably. All levity left Dean in that moment. Everything about Cas suddenly screamed importance, and Dean didn’t want to miss a word.

Dean glanced at Cas, and saw the angel frown, obviously in deep thought. “What?”

“You’re right,” Cas confirmed that Dean had heard correctly, and took Dean’s arm in the crook of his elbow, their step synchronized. “I am lacking the experience. I may have the base knowledge of your popular culture, but I’ve never had the opportunity to actually experience it first hand. With someone, as is common with these types of activities.”

“Except NCIS. We’ve watched that together. And some other stuff.” It was remarkable how Cas’s mere presence took away the self-conscious way Dean had always felt about public show of affection. Yeah he was walking down this road with his man, hand in hand. Screw everybody.

“Yes, and I prefer it that way.” Cas continued, firmness in his voice that told Dean Cas had just decided something. “Like with South Park, there are still references I don’t fully understand. I just know they are there.”

Dean moved his hand down to Cas’s, taking it into his own and squeezing it, reaffirming. They were on the same page. “Sounds like a plan to me. Doctor.”

Cas grinned and squeezed Dean’s hand back, thumb brushing over Dean’s. “Don’t make me take away your Dr. Sexy privileges,” Cas smirked and nodded gravely as the situation warranted.  “Doctor.”

***


	61. Not Quite Phone Sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 400  
> masturbation, fantasy

Dean was lying on their bed, regrettably alone, but if that’s how it had to be, he’d make the most of it.

Restless and horny, he closed his eyes in the darkened room, pushing the heel of his hand to his cock through his underwear, quickly folding away the yearn to have Cas here, replacing that thought with glistening blue eyes looking up at him while the angel was on his knees, sucking on the tip of Dean’s cock.

The image got Dean hardening fast, and Dean sighed, grabbing his cock through the fabric and giving it a few quick pulls.

Dean felt how his precome soaked into his boxers, his arousal greatly heightened when he could almost smell Cas, almost feel his hair under his fingers, and he had to slide his hand under the waistband to get a better hold.

He thumbed at his slit, just like Cas would, and smeared the precome along the shaft, making an ‘O’ with his index finger and thumb, taking a firm hold of his cock and jerking it in fast,  small movements.

This was going to be over quickly, if the tug he felt in his balls was anything to go by, as the Cas in his memory pulled back from sucking him and licked his lips lewdly, enjoying the taste of Dean, before going at it again after wetting a finger in his mouth.

As the Cas in his mind got him all worked up, Dean shoved his boxers down, kicking them down to his ankles and off, and slicked his own finger with his saliva, while his other hand was busy keeping up a steady pace.

Dean’s cock was practically drooling, the slick of it easing the way, and Dean was taking in air in short gasps, his orgasm impeding, just waiting for the final push.

In sync with his memory-Cas, Dean pressed his wet finger against his asshole, not going in, just adding some pressure, while his other hand was at the root of his cock, jerking fast, preparing for the inevitable.

Dean shot his load on his lower belly, some of his come reaching over his bellybutton, and Dean slumped down, tension leaving his body rapidly, when his phone rang on the nightstand. _Cas_.

“I heard your call.”

“You couldn’t have called earlier?”

“Were your hands not busy?”

“It’s called a ‘speaker’, Cas.”

“I love you too, Dean.”

***


	62. Right Beside You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 1100  
> Dean's nightmares and aftermath, thus, angst

Months went by without nightmares, weeks without Dean’s night terrors, but they always found him. Hell always found him, because he carried that shit inside his head, no matter how much he wanted to deny it.

It had been almost two and a half months since the last visions of reliving those horrors, and Dean was getting agitated, _feeling_ it clamoring for a comeback any night now, which made him not want to sleep at all.

One solution was a drunken stupor, a realm of its own where Dean, if he had any dreams, at least didn’t remember them in the morning. But all that had lost its allure ever since Cas had smoothed Dean’s horror with a little application of his grace. Which, unfortunately, was something he daren’t ask from the angel, not, when replenishing his grace was so iffy. Cas would do it, Dean was sure of that, but at what cost? It hadn’t been an option for a while now.

Nighttime was easier when Cas was around, and literal Hell when he wasn’t. That’s what it had boiled down to.

Nighttime was easier with Cas in the same bed, because Cas had found ways to ease Dean’s suffering. To cool down the flames of Hell with his hand, his touch, and his patience. Somewhere deep inside, Dean resented that, that he even needed the pampering in the first place.

Today, getting ready for bed wasn’t the usual affair; Dean was anxious about even shutting the lights, sure that he’d be devoured by the terror the moment the room darkened, but he went through with it anyway.

Cocooned under the sheets, he did feel safe with Cas beside him, but he couldn’t close his eyes.

Dean fidgeted, couldn’t find a comfortable spot, even the weight of Cas’s arm was in the wrong place, and Dean grabbed Cas’s wrist to haul it higher, to have it rest over his ribcage, where his hear beat like a fluttering bird in its cage.

It was Cas who broke the uncomfortable silence, and murmured; “I’m worried about you, Dean.”

“I hate it when you worry about me. Stop it. I’ll get through this. If I can’t sleep, I’ll just go watch some infomercials, maybe buy something useless online.”

“But I _like_ worrying about you.”

“What?”

“Don’t misunderstand. I don’t like that I have to worry about you, but if there’s a must, then I like it.”

Dean mulled this over for a moment, trying to understand what Cas was getting at.

“Dean, I worry about you because I care, and I like knowing that. Does that make sense to you?”

Funnily enough, it did. And Dean could relate. He himself worried about Cas whenever he was off somewhere, not because he didn’t think Cas couldn’t handle himself, but because he loved him, so it pretty much came with the whole package. Worrying.

Dean looked up from where he’d been staring at Cas’s chest, and replied hesitantly. “I worry about you too.”

“I know. And I’m not going to tell you you shouldn’t, because I know you can’t do that. You can’t just hide your feelings away.”

“Are you saying I shouldn’t try to hide my horror either? That what you’re getting at?”

Cas shifted, pushing his leg between Dean’s and stared him right down. “No. What I’m getting at is that you shouldn’t carry this alone.”

And there was the bane of Dean’s existence; He never wanted to be a burden to the people he loved. Never. But he’d done just that by insinuating his own problems into Cas’s life, and suddenly, on top of everything, Dean was ashamed of himself.

“No, Dean. Don’t do that. Talk to me. Don’t go hiding from me.” Cas embraced him tightly, reassuringly, and the tighter Cas held him, the easier Dean could breathe. “I just don’t want to drag you into this.”

“I’m already neck deep, and there’s nothing you can do about it. It’s my choice. My free will to be here with you and I insist that I have all of you.”

Silence fell, easy this time, and Dean hadn’t even noticed he’d fallen asleep to the lull of Cas breathing steadily right by his ear, Dean’s head pillowed on Cas’s shoulder.

And as it figures, Dean woke up with a start, heart hammering in his chest, the dim light of the reading lam left on playing tricks and fooling Dean into seeing blood on his hands, Cas’s blood, where he’d been on the rack, under Dean’s knife, Dean severing sinew from bone, bathing in Cas’s blood.

Castiel hadn’t gone to sleep. He’d had good intuition this might be the night the horrors were going to be twisted and relived, so he’d been waiting, hoping he were wrong ever since Dean’s eyes had started to move restlessly under his eyelids.

“You’re not in Hell, Dean. You’re at the bunker,” Cas said steadily, quietly, reassuring, but not touching yet.

“But you were there!” Dean was sitting up, frantic, shaking, tears in his eyes. “You shouldn’t have been there! Why did you come?”

“Dean,” Cas got up to his knees between Dean’s legs, in front of him, to better look him in the eye and set a careful hand to Dean’s arm, palming his cheek with the other. “I wasn’t there. It was a nightmare. The only time I were in Hell with you was when I got you out. You know this.” Cas pressed a long kiss to Dean’s forehead, murmuring, “You _know_ this. I’m alright. You haven’t done anything to hurt me.”

The eternal darkness of Hell began to dissipate from Dean’s mind in demon-like tendrils of so much smoke, clearing the picture in front of him. It was such a massive relief,  finding Cas healthy and whole, safe. It was just a nightmare. Not even a _memory_ , just a nightmare that would never, ever be true. “You’re safe?”

“That’s it Dean. I am safe, and it’s all because of you. Without you, I would be lost.” Cas pressed the last words into Dean’s lips.

“Okay, Cas. Good, that’s good.” The last figments of the dream got lost in the warmth Dean felt pushing the cold away. Warmth that was Cas. No grace in play, just Castiel and his solid presence.

It would take a long time. It had taken a long time. There were no quick fixes, they both knew it. But they also knew that it could be done. Dean and Cas would chase away Dean’s demons once and for all. One night at a time.

Dean turned out the light.

***


	63. Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 1000  
> schmoop, anal sex, bottom!Cas

It had been three months since they’d seen each other. Three months existing on phones and prayers, so now that Cas was here, Dean wasn’t going to let him go easily.

They’d showered together, shared a meal with Sam, and once all things that mattered around them were sufficiently updated to Sam’s approval, Dean and Cas had retired to their room.

All Dean really wanted was to touch Cas. To feel him physically under his hands, as if reaffirming that he was really here, instead of it being just another Djinn-induced dream, since that’s how it sometimes felt.

The men got undressed, fingers fumbling on buttons while they were otherwise preoccupied by kissing, going by feel more than relying on sight, but there wasn’t any real hurry.

It was playful, Cas pretending he had more trouble with the fastenings of his slacks and seriously needed Dean’s help to get them off, just to haul him in for a long hug that replenished Dean more than any drink in this world could do.

Finally in the buff, the men jumped onto the bed, legs tangling instantly, Dean using his knee to draw Cas as close as possible.

Their faces just inches apart, the men looked at each other, their matching smiles peaceful, like finding rest after a long journey.

Cas shifted a little to get his half-hard cock resting snugly against Dean’s, repeating the movement a few more times, nudging Dean with his hips, just to feel it. There was no other thing for Dean to do, but to delve his tongue into Cas’s mouth, to kiss him long and deep, slow and familiar, and everything Dean yearned for.

Cas tasted like Cas, felt like Cas, _was_ Cas in his arms, and he wasn’t leaving. Not now, not the first thing in the morning, and even if he was, morning was still a long time away.

Dean’s hands moved up and down Cas’s back, reacquainting with each nook and cranny he could find between his shoulder blades, neck, the rise of his hip, the slope of his back just over his ass.

His hands roamed over a firm buttock and under, lifting Cas’s leg over his own hip, and stopped for a while to adjust his rapidly hardening cock, aiming it under Cas’s balls and pressing their abdomen together so that Cas could get some pressure on his proudly standing cock.

“I want to fuck you, Cas,” Dean murmured, looking Cas in the eye.

Cas ran his knuckles over Dean’s cheek and smiled tenderly, “I want you to fuck me. I’ve missed that.”

It took minutes, and then some, before Dean felt like he could extract himself from Cas for long enough to reach for the nightstand for the lube.

Cas took it from Dean, opening the tube and squeezing a healthy dollop onto Dean’s fingers, then closed the lube and tossed it away. “Just put it on yourself. I want to feel your stretch,” was the answer to Dean’s wordless question.

Dean did as told, slicking his cock, and reached under Cas to smear the rest to Cas’s hole.

“I want you as deep as you can go, Dean. I want all of you,” Cas instructed, and after Dean gave Cas another tonguing kiss, he got up to his knees, holding Cas in place by the hip.

Cas was laying on his side, knees raised up towards his chest, and Dean eased his hand under Cas’s thing, lifting it in the air, creating a space for himself in a half-circle of Cas and all the leverage he could ask for.

Dean lowered himself and lined up his cock, starting to push in slowly, enjoying the keening mewl coming from Cas, and the way Cas grabbed Dean’s wrist, tugging him, urging him on.

Going as fast as he dared, Dean was soon embedded in Cas, balls deep, just like Cas wanted.

“Dean,” Cas nearly growled, his pupils blown wide and his mouth a delicious pink O of pure lust. “Fuck me. Hard. I need it.”

Who was Dean to deny him?

Dean planted his other hand on Cas’s hip and the other under his thigh, opening Cas’s legs wider, and started to fuck the angel in a harsh pace.

He knew Cas could take whatever Dean gave him, and it seemed that that’s just how Cas wanted it.

“Dean, _Dean_ , yes! I feel so open. Harder, please, Dean, give yourself to me.”

There was no chance in hell Dean would last long, not when Cas had a mouth on him, not when it had been so long, and the way Cas’s body engulfed him so totally, it was all Dean could do not to come right then and there.

Dean pounded into Cas with real force, nearly folding the angel in half with his thrusts, and the look on Cas’s face was nothing short of gratitude. “Ah, ah, _ah, Dean,_ you’re making me come. Please, make me come!”

“Cas,” Dean panted, delirious with Cas, “touch yourself for me. I’m gonna come, and I want you to come with me.” He didn’t slow down, didn’t give Cas even half the chance to do anything but to oblige.

Cas put his hand on his cock, pulling in time with Dean’s thrusts, and had gone quiet, his breathing erratic, the fluttering Dean felt around his cock promising Cas was going to come any second now, and a few more thrusts in, Dean came with a wail, teeth grinding as he emptied himself inside Cas in hot spurts, Cas following right behind him, spilling over his hand, back bowing to a graceful arch.

Dean pulled out slowly to let Cas’s leg down, then flopped alongside him, grinning stupidly, his flushed face sweating and his eyes gleaming. “Good enough?”

“Better than,” Cas mumbled through his own goofy grin, lifting his hand to the back of Dean’s head, fingers massaging his scalp gently.

Getting reacquainted was always so much fun it was almost, _almost_ worth the pain.

***


	64. Home Is Made Of These

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 800  
> domestic fluff, sick!fic

Dean had the sniffles. Or that’s what he claimed he had, when in reality, he had bronchitis and a sore throat from all the coughing, but apples, oranges, who keeps tally about these things anyway?

Cas did, in great detail, buzzing around Dean and covering him with blankets on the couch, making sure he got enough fluids, and making tomato soup from scratch in the bunker kitchen.

Though feverish, Dean still found that part a feat he thought he’d never witness, and he wasn’t about to be left out just because he had a runny nose. So he bundled himself up and shuffled towards the kitchen quietly, stifling a coughing fit into the blanket, and set to spying.

There was Cas, without his trench, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and looking to all the world like he belonged there, in front of the counter, chopping onions and keeping an eye on the tomatoes blanching away in a pot, a bowl of ice water at the ready to dunk them into.

How Cas even knew how to do this stuff, Dean daren’t to question, but it was fascinating to watch those long fingers working deftly, Cas’s blade skills going to use Dean never even dreamed of observing.

“Come and sit down, Dean,” Cas called gently without turning to look at Dean.

Dean scooted to the closest seat wordlessly, feeling much like a scolded child, but the exhilaration of watching Cas work on the food was enough to wipe that away almost immediately. “I didn’t know you knew how to cook. You never have before.”

“I’ve never had the occasion,” Cas glanced over his shoulder, smiling softly. “I know how to prepare a number of dishes. Some of which are better forgotten under the sands of time.”

Cas’s hands didn’t stop moving while he explained further, a flush coloring his cheeks, clearly liking what he was doing. “Have you ever heard of the Spartan black broth?” Cas chuckled, looking at Dean again while peeling tomatoes. “You’d _hate_ that. It’s pig and blood, and vinegar with some salt, all boiled together into a porridge,” Cas popped a slice of tomato into his mouth as if to get rid of an unpleasant taste. “It was supposed to be tough food for tough men,” Cas offered a slice to Dean, who chewed on it thoughtfully.

Chopping away, Cas continued quietly; “It never made much sense to me, but then again, I didn’t really care,” he tossed some onions into a frying pan that started to sizzle away, the color on Cas’s cheeks rising higher, hair disheveled. To Dean, he was breathtakingly gorgeous.

Cas took another pot and added some water, setting it to boil, and dumped the cubed tomatoes and the rice in, then adding the onions and other readied ingredients. “It was just one of those things humans did. Eat, sleep,” Cas wiped his hands on a towel and walked up to Dean, “get sick,” Cas cocked his head to the side. “Fall in love.”

The kitchen was starting to smell divine, and although Dean wasn’t feeling hungry at all, he knew for certain he was going to demolish at least two bowls of the soup, and could hardly wait.

Cas had a contemplating look on his face when he put his hand to Dean’s forehead, then smacked his mouth, somewhat disapproving since the fever was still there.

Dean knew Cas felt terrible, not being able to cure him with his grace, but it made no sense to waste it on something antibiotics would take care for. Still, Dean understood. If it was the other way around, Dean would be anxious too, so they had an agreement; Cas could play the mother hen all he wanted, and Dean focused on getting better.

Cas scratched Dean’s head lightly, almost making the man purr, and slunk down to give him a little kiss on the lips, before going back to the stove.

“Hey!” Dean yelped, fingers to his lips. “Careful there, tiger. You’re going to catch this too.”

Cas chuckled, “No, I’m really not.” Dean had to give the man a point. He probably wouldn’t.

Soon, he had a plate of soup in front of him, and the first taste was awesome, even with his nose clogged. Dean said as much, gaining a pleased look from Cas and a gummy smile that wrinkled his nose and eyes. God, this head cold made him sappy, since that was the cutest thing Dean had seen all week, and he’s watched Cas a _lot_. But this was different. This was Cas providing for his loved one, and the joy of it showed through. The angel nearly shone.

“So,” Dean asked after another few spoonsful,  “How are your cheeseburgers?”

“Get better, and find out,” Cas winked. _Winked._

Awesome.

_***_


	65. In Your Hands I Find Myself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 500  
> Written for the prompt given to me by the wonderful EthneDragon, 'worship of Cas's hands'. I hope I did it justice.  
> fluff

These menial tasks, like taking apart and cleaning guns was generally boring, automatic movements drilled deep into Dean’s spine since childhood, but it also had some perks; He got to watch Cas doing the same thing, but so different, and there was nothing boring or menial about that.

How those fingers, long and strong, knew how to handle a gun, knew every part just by touch, and put them together again with such precision that would bring tears into the eyes of a few drill sergeants Dean knew.

His own work forgotten, Dean just clutched to the cleaning rag in his lap, eyes going doe-y as Cas put the final parts of the pistol together and moved on to the blades.

It was remarkable how careful Cas was with these weapons, when he could wield one so effortlessly, to raze down a flock of demon in one breath, with those hands around a blade, dexterous and deadly.

The urge came over Dean unexpectedly, as if he was transfixed, unable to, unwilling to stop himself; He got up from his chair and kneeled in front of Cas, wrapping his fingers around Cas’s wrists, interrupting him and turning them over, palm up.

He’d seen these hands do wicked things, and knew how it felt like to have those fingertips coursing over his thighs, and even now, he could feel the strength in them.

Dean took the blade Cas was holding and set it aside, only to take Cas’s hands into his own almost reverently. He kissed Cas’s palm, tasting gun oil on his lips and not caring.

Dean’s fingers roamed over every knuckle of Cas’s hand, touching with meaning, then kissed each fingertip at a time, worshipping his angel, these deadly hands that were so loving. Dean pressed his face against Cas’s left palm, looking to brush his cheek against the faintly calloused skin, knowing each hardened place intimately, and wanting to learn more. To map and memorize every inch. He pressed his nose against the hand, inhaling deeply the evidence of Cas’s work, salt from Cas’s skin on his tongue, and moved to suck a finger between his lips.

It wasn’t obscene, it wasn’t sexual at all, far from it. It was reverent, as Dean was mesmerized, drugged by Cas and his intense presence in his silence.

 Dean felt his chest fit to burst with emotion, and he couldn’t hold back a groan when his lips met the iron ring he’d given Cas, in its rightful place in Cas’s ring finger. A promise that come what may, these hands would keep Dean afloat, drag him from the pits of Hell, these hands with the power to heal even the most broken. These hands loved him, fucked him, caressed him. These hands were a miracle in and of itself.

Dean went on, kissing each knuckle while Cas let him, and once Dean was done, Cas cupped Dean’s face with those beloved hands and kissed him deeply.

A covenant. A pledge. A blessing.

***


	66. Witches Are Bitches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 600  
> a curse, oral sex, humor, Sam, briefly. Come right up, we got it all here!

Witches were bitches. Dean should have that printed on a shirt.

This particular dude had not only tried to summon some big boss demon, but also managed to turn Dean mute. Like, no-sound-at-all- mute, so he couldn’t even gripe about it. It was unfair and bitch-y, and Dean was pretty sure his face showed what he thought about the situation. At least the witch bit the dust.

Still, that left Dean without a voice, much to Sam’s amusement, who had had a good chuckle over it, clapped Dean on the shoulder and headed to the shower, showing absolutely no sympathy at all for Dean’s recent loss. So Dean turned to Cas for that. At least Cas would understand how all the woe was Dean.

So Dean sat on the bed next to Cas and drooped his head on his shoulder like a sad puppy, certain that his message got across.

What he got for his troubles was a soft laugh, and even softer; “It’ll go away soon. Maybe you should see it as an opportunity?”

What kind of an angel laughs at the ailing? But Cas wasn’t through. When Dean went to get up, Cas’s hand stopped him, pulling him back on the bed, insistently, until he was lying perpendicular to the bed.

“Remember what I said about an opportunity, Dean?” Cas purred, mischief in his eyes and his hand rubbing over Dean’s crotch through his jeans, making Dean blink rapidly and unable to decide where he wanted this to go. Sam was right there, in the shower, and would have a fit if he walked up to them while Dean was rocking out with his cock out. Actually, he’d have a fit anyway, since apparently even hearing Dean and Cas was… Wait. What?

Cas was determined to give Dean a hard on, deftly opening Dean’s jeans and adjusting Dean’s cock so that the very tip peeked out from his underwear. Dean gulped. Very quietly. Then let out a soundless sigh as Cas kissed the cock head, licking it a little, then sucked on it hard, making Dean buck up to the heat. Devious, wonderful little angel, and he was all Dean’s.

Dean fisted the bedcovers in both hands as Cas kept sucking, long, steady pulls intermitted with pulsing suckles and licks, all designed to make Dean come like a rocket, and just as fast.

Breathing fast, and still about as noisy as a mouse in a cotton factory, Dean plunged his fingers into Cas’s hair, pushing his down, making him take a little more of Dean, and it was Cas who let out the tiny groan that seemed to boom in the otherwise silent room.

Cas stuck his tongue in the slit and sucked hard, Deans hips moving on their own volition, and once Cas wrapped a hot hand around Dean’s cock through the fabric, Dean came, his back curving as if to give Cas every last drop of him, eyes shut and his mouth open in a moan that would’ve been heard through the county if Dean had his voice.

Seemingly satisfied with his handiwork, Cas swallowed his mouthful with a smirk, bent down to give Dean’s cock one last kiss, and gently tucked him away again, while Dean was collecting the bits of his brain from the ether where Cas had just blown them.

Devious, devious little angel. Dean should’ve seen this coming.

“Now do you see what I meant by opportunity?” Cas whispered, laying down next to Dean, who had gathered enough wits to try to reply. He nodded vigorously, grinning.

But witches were still bitches.

***


	67. Please Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Teen and Up  
> Word count: totally out of hand 1700  
> Written for EthneDragon's prompt 'panties' where unfounded jealousy was considered a bonus feature :)  
> misunderstandings, Dean in panties

Castiel sat on their bed, frowning, deep in thought, a pair of black, satin, pink lace trimmed women’s panties laid next to him. Something he found when he’d thought he’d help out and sort the laundry from Dean’s duffel. He’d never expected this.

It had never even occurred to him. Not even once.

He had always known Dean was bisexual, there weren’t any surprises there, but that he was also polyamoral came as real food for thought.

It wasn’t that Cas questioned Dean’s love. He knew for certain that the man really did love Cas, but that there was a need for a female in his life was somewhat a blow. It was painful to think about. Cas had thought he was enough, but evidently, there was something missing if Dean had to get intimate with someone else.

Cas wasn’t sure if he should be angry, if he had the right. The whole thing was so bizarre to begin with, so sudden, that the jealousy bubbling under the surface was starting to boil, turning Cas’s blood cold.

He had but a moment to inspect this feeling, when the door to their room flung open and Dean stood at the doorstep, frozen to place, eyes wide in evident shock. He didn’t move before Cas spoke.

“I found these,” Cas waved a hand at the panties Dean was staring at, jaw slack and eyes wild. “I was going through your clothes to wash them, and found those,” Cas continued, feeling entirely like Dean should be the one doing the explaining and trying to keep it under cover. It wouldn’t do much good to start yelling.

Dean’s mouth had gone dry the second he saw the panties. He tried furiously to work his brain around how to go about explaining them to Cas, who was evidently upset.

Though seeming calm, Cas’s eyes gave it all away, the way they shone with emotion, the darkness over his face, and Dean couldn’t figure out if it was anger or disappointment he saw written there. This was why he’d kept his dirty secret a secret in the first place. He’d always feared there were things even Cas wouldn’t accept, and it seemed like he’d managed to find it without even trying.

“What’s her name?” Cas wasn’t sure why he said what his mouth let out, uncertain why he was torturing himself with this, but decided to listen to the answer anyway.

“Who?” Dean managed, completely taken for a spin, suddenly disoriented and reeling, absolutely clueless what Cas was talking about.

“Who? Dean,” there was frustration mingling with growing fury in Cas’s voice. Did Dean try to deny it, even now? “The woman who wears these?” Cas pointed at the satin panties, not really seeing anything but the stricken look on Dean’s face.

“What woman?” Dean tried to backpedal what had occurred since he walked in. It still didn’t make any sense.

“I always thought I’d be enough. That I satisfied your… needs,” Cas was fumbling for words, thrown in this bizarre situation so suddenly it felt like it’d chopped off half of his vocabulary.

“Cas,” Dean stepped inside the room carefully, holding a hand up in a pacifying manner. He was starting to get the picture, and he wasn’t sure if this was good or bad. He closed the door behind him and stood very still. “There is no woman. You _are_ enough. You thought I was… There was,” Dean blew a long breath out through his nose, licking his lips nervously, keeping his eyes on Cas’s, hoping that he could will his thoughts across where words failed him.

“How long, Dean? How long have you had this affair? Or was it a one night stand?” Cas’s calm exterior began to crumble, his heart aching.

“No! Cas! Listen to me!” Dean dared a step closer, putting both his hands in front of him. “There is no one else. No woman, no one but you,” Dean hastened to add, wanting nothing more than to look away for the next bit, but held his gaze locked with Cas’s; “Those are mine.” Dean nodded towards the bed, glancing at the panties. He would take what was coming to him. Would Cas laugh? Leave him? Get upset?

Cas did a double –take from the panties to Dean and back again that would’ve been hilarious under any other circumstances.

“Yours?” Cas got out quietly, mind going a million miles a minute, nothing making much sense to him.

“Yes. Those ladies panties you found,” Dean pointed at them again, as if there was any question what he was talking about. He was good at digging his own grave that way. “I wear those. I… I like them.”

Cas felt the relief go through him such force it felt like his very bones were melting, his heart hammering in his chest with renewed vigor. Dared he wish… “You, Dean Winchester, those are yours.” Cas just thought he’d double check. One could never be too sure, not with the matters of the heart. But warmth bloomed where ice ran through his veins mere moments ago.

Dean tried to discern the changing expression on Cas’s face, his eyes lighting up and his mouth curving into a slight smile. It didn’t seem mocking. “Yes. That’s right, Cas _tiel_. Affirmative.” Would Cas just hurry this up so Dean could crawl somewhere and drink himself stupid?

“But then there is no woman,” Cas stated the obvious, more to himself than anybody else, suddenly so happy he could bounce.

“No woman. That’s my point. No one but you,” Dean repeated, lowering his hands since the blow he’d been expecting, physical or not, didn’t come. It was becoming infuriating.

“Can I see them?” Cas said, out of the blue, unawares of the milling of Dean’s mind.

“I think you can see them alright right now,” Dean scoffed, totally thrown by the question.

“On you, I mean. I’d like to see them on you.” Cas smiled at Dean lovingly, nearly bursting at the seams with all the feeling coming to a single arrow of the love he felt for this man. He would bet Dean looked beautiful in the panties.

Dean was taken aback, the whirlwind that was his thoughts trying to sort itself out. Was Cas really mocking him? Was he… _not_? “On me?”

“Yes, please. If you don’t mind.”

Dean had to be sure. The tailspin this all had taken to was getting to him. He could swear Cas looked happy, and not at all whatever it was Dean was expecting. Was Cas serious? “Are you serious? Cas,” Dean took the few steps to get to the bed, standing right in front of Cas. “You’re not making fun of me?”

Cas put his hand to Dean’s hip, tucking his thumb into the jeans pocket, stroking Dean in a calming manner finally cluing in that there was something amiss. He looked up at Dean, and found something so hopeful in his eyes it made his stomach twist. “No, Dean,” Cas nearly whispered, “ I’m not making fun of you. I love you, and I’d like to see you wear those panties, if it’s something you’d like to share with me.”

It was. It had always been, but Dean had never seen it as a valid option. Not that Cas wasn’t open minded about just about everything, but it had felt like something to be ashamed of. But now, given the chance, Dean was going to take it for all it was worth. “I’ll be right back. Stay here.” He grabbed the panties and made towards the door, Cas’s voice stopping him to his tracks.

“Please. Dean,” Cas held out a hand, beckoning Dean to come back. “Show me.”

Dean gulped, and turned around fully, walking back to Cas and stayed standing in front of him again.

Cas’s fingers found the button of Dean’s jeans and looking up for a permission, flicked it open. Cas kept his eyes to Dean’s while he unzipped him. “Will you take off your shirt?” Cas tugged the jeans down Dean’s hips, taking his boxers down with them, baring Dean fully and planting his hands to the curves of Dean’s hips.

Cas pressed a kiss to Dean’s lower belly while Dean got rid of his shirt, then pulled back to look at him again. “Show me, Dean.”

Dean kicked his jeans off, quickly ridding himself of his socks, and stood there, naked, and suddenly very certain of two things; himself, and that he loved Cas more than words could ever express.

There was softness in Cas’s eyes as he watched Dean unravel the bunched-up panties in his hand and slowly started to draw them on.

Dean was pulling the sating over his mid-thigh when Cas’s hands went over Dean’s, not stopping him, not doing anything but touching lightly. They pulled the panties on Dean together the rest of the way.

Breathing hard, Dean swallowed and longed to wipe his sticky hands on something. He was nervous, true, but he wasn’t scared. Not anymore.

Cas let go of Dean’s hands and looked down from Dean’s face, eyelevel with Dean’s satin covered cock. “Can you turn around for me?” Cas’s voice had taken a deeper, huskier tone.

Dean turned around, his heart pounding with exhilaration, giddy with being able to do this. To do this with Cas.

He heard Cas standing up, and felt the angel press his chest to Dean’s back, and his hips to Dean’s ass, a firm push that told Dean Cas was much in the same predicament he found himself in. It was part of it all, the sexual arousal. And it came with unprecedented force now that he wasn’t alone.

Cas put his warm hands to Dean’s hips again, sliding his palms against the fabric adorning them, gliding his hands to the front of Dean and rubbing his fingers over the bulge there, Cas’s hips nudging Dean, the movement, the way Cas thumbed the lace trimmings, the heat of his skin through the fabric all bringing into sharp relief the fact that this was actually happening. Dean was free.

Cas held Dean’s cock through the satin and nearly growled; “Dean. You’re beautiful. And mine.”

***


	68. Up High Above

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 600  
> schmoop

It was their last night in the forest, the wendigo threat all taken care of, and Sam having decided to head back to civilization, leaving Dean and Cas camping alone.

Nighttime fell, bringing out the clear starry eyes, and they’d’ve been fools to sleep in the tent and miss the spectacular show on the everlasting screen hanging over the canopy of the trees.

They’d gotten their bedrolls and sleeping bags around the campfire and folded the tent away, so in the morning, pretty much all they had to do was leave.

It was a nice, cool night. Not too cold, no wind to speak of, and it was so peaceful here, when they hardly ever got to experience the calm of the forest.

Laying side by side, Dean’s hand in Cas’s, they stared silently at the slowly shifting night sky, riddled with stars like little pinpricks through velvet.

Dean knew some of the constellations in front of him, could make out the Big Dipper in a glance, found Cassiopeia with another,  but there were trillions of them, so many, it all became impossible to fully comprehend how vast space really was. Without city lights, it was breathtaking. Unreal. And he got to be there with the one person he wanted to share this moment with.

Said person stared at the stars with the same reverence that Dean had in his heart, seemingly lost in thought. Until he started to speak in soft tones, careful, as if trying not to stir too much the silence surrounding them; “Do you see that? That vase over there?” Cas pointed towards the sky, Dean leaning over to better make out what he was supposed to decipher.

Cas moved his hand, guiding Dean to indeed see the crude shape of a vase. He nodded against Cas’s shoulder, laying his head there to listen to the rest of it.

“That’s the Aquarius,” Cas looked at Dean to find that he knew what Cas was talking about. Dean’s interest was instantly piqued.

“The Greeks associated the Aquarius with Ganymede, the most beautiful of mortals, who was selected as the cup-carrier for Zeus. He was chosen, and kidnapped to do the gods’ bidding. Being their cupbearer meant that he was granted immortality, and after a long time, Zeus put him up there as the Aquarius, to forever ascertain that water flew in the rivers of Earth.”

Cas put his chin on Dean’s head, holding him close, murmuring in Dean’s hair; “It’s always a great task, an honorable stature to be serving the gods. I see many similarities in you and Ganymede, Dean. Although I do think your place, your work, is more important than Ganymede’s ever was. Your work has value,” Cas paused, lifting Dean’s chin up to look him in the eye, “No matter how much you’ve fought, you’ve always been the Righteous Man. The chosen one. More than neither of us can fully comprehend.”

Cas placed a sot kiss to Dean’s lips, preventing any disagreement that was bound to come from the man who had always fought and trashed against his destiny, and had always found it to be in vain.

But here, under these stars, under the eye of Ganymede up in the skies, it wasn’t half that bad. If all he got out of the business of playing this Righteous Man- role was that he managed to score his angel, and got to spend the rest of his days with him, for Dean, it was worth it. He didn’t need a star. He didn’t need the legend behind him. All he needed was this.

***


	69. Like A Drug

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 400  
> bottom!Dean

Dean was riding Cas’s cock, moving his hips in long, luxurious thrusts, the perfect curve of Cas’s cock brushing his prostate with each push, making Dean’s breath stutter and moaning, keening, praising Cas. How good it was, Dean leaning back to his hands, Cas with one hand on Dean’s thigh, moving in endless circles, a calming, mooring touch that Dean felt he’d fly away without.

Cas’s other hand was wrapped tightly around Dean’s cock, tugging at the root so that Dean’s balls got some stimulation too, making Dean gasp and whimper.

Dean was shaking, his skin shimmering with sweat, head thrown back, revealing the curve of his throat for Cas to marvel, his lips tingling with the need to suck a mark there, to feel Dean’s thundering pulse on his tongue.

Cas lift his hand from Dean’s thigh, reaching for his arm, needing the man closer still, and Dean came willingly with Cas’s pull. As if he could ever deny him.

The shift in their position made Dean grit his teeth and let out a desperate mewl, Cas’s cock pressing right where Dean wanted it the most.

Cas turned Dean’s head so that he could finally taste the salt on Dean’s skin, licking a long line over his throat, pressing kisses to the beloved pulse point, before sucking at it fiercely, pushing his hips up, the leverage working for him so that he could fuck into Dean at the pace he wanted, Dean taking it, each thrust pushing a grunt out of him, while Cas’s hand remained on Dean’s cock.

“Cas, fuck! Fuck me. Make me come. Cas, make me come on your cock.” Panting, Dean was close, knew by the clench of Cas’s thighs he was right there with him, and with another thrust, Cas moaned against Dean’s neck, his cock spilling his come inside Dean in long, hot bursts, ripping Dean’s orgasm out of him and making him see stars.

Dean sat back up, feeling the tinge of Cas’s lips leaving his throat a physical loss, while knowing all he had to do was to touch it, and this moment would come to him in great detail. Dean adored Cas’s marks on him. Loved to belong. Loved to hold his come inside him as long as possible, and always craving more. It was just the way things were; Dean was addicted, and wouldn’t change it for the world.

***


	70. Addicted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 500  
> Written from an idea given to me by hope+travis. The song referred to in this drabble is 'Addicted' by Saving Able.  
> Sam, fluff

Cas was in the backseat while the Winchester brothers occupied the front seats, Sam fiddling with the radio since they couldn’t agree what music to listen to.

Sam finally found a station that seemed to play something that everyone could stand without breaking into hives, and sat back, relaxing into the seat the best he could for a long ride.

The song played on, something about being addicted to someone, and Sam figured he’d heard it before, not paying mind to the passing scenery or Dean, until Dean coughed, and upon Sam looking at him, Dean just grinned sheepishly.

A few seconds passed, and it happened again, making Sam suspicious, so he changed his posture and kept an eye on Dean, who was practically from an advert for reckless driving, keeping his eyes more on the rearview mirror than the road.

Before Sam could make fun of him, or at least drive safely, Dean glanced at Sam and announced they had to make a stop at the next gas station.

“But you just filled her up ten miles ago? Dean, what are you doing?”

“Well, we could use some snacks, and beer. We can never have too much beer. We need beer,” Dean took the next exit and drove away from the highway, leaving Sam baffled about what was going on.

Once the Impala stopped at the gas station, Sam got out, then, after a pause, leaned back inside again since Dean wasn’t moving. “Aren’t you coming?”

“You’re a big boy, Sammy. You can do it on your own, go on. Shoo.” The dismissal was complete with an accompanying gesture. Sam rolled his eyes and decided to do his brother’s bidding, harrumphing on his way. The things he did… He deserved a prize of some sort.

The second Sam disappeared inside, Dean shot out of the car, bee-lined it to the backseat and slumped next to Cas, who wasn’t quite as in the dark about why Dean suddenly wanted to stop. He’d made it very difficult for Dean to keep driving even this far.

“That song was just too much,” Dean breathed, grabbing Cas by the lapels and pulling him closer, Cas wrapping his arms around Dean’s back and humming contendedly against Dean’s lips.

It was frantic kissing from that on. They didn’t have time, nor did they wanted to be cited for indecent conduct in public, but both of them needed this.

Tongues playing, lips gliding over each other’s, Dean’s stubble leaving a burn on Cas’s jaw, making sure Cas would feel it until they got to this point again.

Dean’s hand was in Cas’s hair, Cas’s fingers so warm, gripping on Dean’s neck, never wanting to let go, when there was a knock to the window. It took a few seconds and some more insistent knocking, before either of them noticed anything. Apparently Sam was back. Wow, did he teleport?

Sam opened the door with a huge grin on his face; “Mind if I drive for a while?”

***


	71. Sweet Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 800  
> intercrural sex

Dean woke up in the middle of the night, and though his dream dissolved almost instantly, he was hard as a rock. The dream had had Cas in it, and now Dean was aching for him, even if the angel was sleeping a hand’s span away from him.

Lifting Cas’s blanket, Dean slid closer, carefully going by tough alone, caressing Cas’s arm.

Dean rose to lean on his elbow, nudging his nose under Cas’s ear, breathing in his scent, and his cock responded with an eager jump.

“Cas?” Dean whispered in the darkness, not wanting to alert him, not really wanting to wake him up either, just… wanting.

“Hmm?” Cas responded sleepily, turning his head so that Dean’s lips brushed Cas’s cheek. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Dean bumped his hips against Cas’s naked ass. “Go back to sleep.”

Dean could hear Cas’s smirk through his words; “Oh. Fine, then. I’ll just—”

“You don’t _have_ to go back to sleep. Unless you want to,” Dean hurried to interrupt, the purr of Cas’s voice only fueling the fire.

“And what are you doing, Dean?” That was definitely a smirk.

“Me? Nothing?” Dean pressed his cock against Cas’s ass harder, making it impossible to ignore.

“Doesn’t feel like nothing,” Cas smiled, reaching behind and grabbing Dean’s ass, squeezing it and just leaving his hand there. “Was there something you wanted to do?”

There was a moment’s silence before Dean could speak again. Cas was easing his fingers down Dean’s crack, completely on the same page with Dean, and if he needed any more confirmation, all he had to do was to lower his hand down to Cas’s cock and find it as hard as his own.

“Want to try something?” Dean had such good ideas, and right now, his idea would bring that much needed friction to his cock sooner rather than later.

“Always,” Cas pushed against Dean as if urging him on.

Dean flung the blankets aside and slid his hand down Cas’s thigh, his fingers under his leg, and lift it slightly, while scooting downwards on the bed.

Cas seemed to be reading Dean’s mind, since he bent forward a little, in an angle where it was easy for Dean to slide his cock between Cas’s thighs, under Cas’s balls, and lowered his leg again, pressing down on Dean’s cock.

Dean let out a long sigh, the ache in his cock easing, changing into a need to move, fuck himself between Cas’s thighs until he’d painted them white.

It was Cas who made the first move, neglecting his own cock and reaching down between his legs with fingers he’d licked wet, finding the head of Dean’s cock and starting to tease him with gentle circling motion.

Dean groaned hard, wrapping his arm around Cas’s waist and started to thrust into the tightness, feeling the softness of Cas’s sack on his cock.

Cas lowered his hand down to the underside of Dean’s cock, easing his fingers between his own thighs to reach properly, and pressed his fingertips up to the smooth skin of Dean’s cock, earning a moaned “ _Cas”_ in his ear, and Dean’s hand to move along his belly and to his cock, Dean’s thick fingers wrapping around it tightly.

Dean was fucking himself into Cas’s heat, jerking the angel off at the same pace, nibbling Cas’s ear between groans, and he knew he wouldn’t last long. The extra pressure Cas was offering with his fingers was gliding along Dean’s sensitive frenulum, making Dean gasp with each pass.

“Dean, _Dean_ , I love your hands. I love your hands on me,” Cas sighed stiltedly, and Dean could picture his face, eyes closed lightly in pleasure, his mouth open slack as his orgasm built from deep within.

Dean stroked Cas in long, hard pulls, and could feel his climax approaching as Cas’s balls pulsed against Dean’s cock.

Groaning at the sensation, Dean pressed his mouth to Cas’s ear; “Come with me, Cas. Come on, do it. Come for me.”

Cas went breathless as his body jerked and he shot his load over Dean’s hand, some of the come landing on Dean’s thumb, and it took only one more thrust before Dean was coming between Cas’s thighs, Dean fucking through his own come and holding Cas’s cock in his fist until they were both too spent, and too sensitive to go on any longer.

Gingerly, Dean withdrew, almost surprised it was dark in the room where there had just been some of the most amazing fireworks, and breathed hard.

Somewhat aware of his surroundings, Dean licked the drop of Cas’s come off his thumb, and decided to get a washcloth to clean Cas up, but before he could even move, Cas was pulling him back onto the bed. “Dean, it can wait. Come back”

***


	72. To Give Is To Get

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 500  
> blow jobs

Dean was ecstatic, on his knees on the bed, bent over Cas’s lap and licking the tip of his cock with small kitten licks. He loved sucking Cas off, and not least because of all the reactions he could wring out the angel.

The deep breaths Cas took when Dean teased him made Dean shiver down his spine, Cas’s hand in his short hair trying to find purchase, fingers kneading his scalp but not pushing down, not demanding anything, just there, in the best way possible.

Dean took the tip in his mouth, sucking hard, then let go, just to do it again, going down lower, taking Cas deeper, bopping his head in a steady pace, always taking more, until Cas’s cock was lodged deep in Dean’s throat.

Dean moaned around his mouthful, feeling fulfillment he couldn’t get anywhere else. He felt alive when Cas’s cock prevented him from breathing, the taste of him making him salivate so that his spit ran down Cass cock with each motion.

Pressing his tongue against the fat vein along Cas’s cock, Dean shivered. The guttural sounds Cas was making made his toes curl, made him greedy, wanting Cas’s come on his tongue.

The sounds were words of forgotten languages, and though Dean didn’t know the precise meaning, he got the gist of it, when Cas pushed his hips up tentatively, testing, asking for permission, his gentle hand never leaving Dean’s hair.

Dean wanted Cas to fuck his throat so much it made his own cock pulse out precome profusely. He’d take care of his own arousal, but right now, it was all about Cas.

Dean moved his hand from where it’d been on Cas’s abdomen, effectively granting Cas the permission he was seeking, and opened his mouth wide, reveling in the taste of Cas’s precome and knowing he would get more soon.

Cas lift his hips off the bed, thrusting into Dean’s throat slowly, his hand finding Dean’s and holding it tight, their fingers interlacing like Cas needed something to hold onto, to ground him.

Fucking Dean’s throat faster, Cas went to speaking in tongues, Dean working his throat to constrict around Cas’s cock on each thrust, loving the easy glide of the turgid flesh.

Cas was leaking precome, whetting Dean’s appetite more, making him greedy and wanting. Cas was close.

In the next moment, Cas was coming on Dean’s tongue, Dean’s reward for a job well done, and Dean savored every last drop, swallowing slowly, his cock jerking, reminding Dean he hadn’t come yet. He’d been so occupied with Cas, so transfixed with every sound and movement, but now his own arousal was making itself known with vengeance.

Cas, still breathless, sat up and took Dean’s head between his hands, eyes dark and promising, and kissed Dean deeply, tasting his own come on Dean’s tongue, sharing it, like they shared everything.

Cas laid Dean down with intent, switching places, and sucked Dean’s cock in his mouth.

Getting was as good as giving.

***


	73. Not A Moonlight Sonata

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 800  
> Written for hope travis's prompt 'Cas teaching Dean how to waltz'. Well...  
> schmoop

Dean wasn’t a dancing man. It’s not that he had two left feet or no sense of rhythm, he’d just always preferred not to learn. It’d seemed trite, not really something one could use when fighting boogeymen. The closest he’s ever come to dancing was some drunken cheek-to-cheek- action at some party with some girl he can’t even remember anymore.

But then, there was Castiel, and if the angel wanted to dance with Dean, he’d very well learn to do so, especially when Cas had seemed so homesick lately, gazing to the stars and telling stories of happier times, when the angels had still frolicked without the weight of war on their shoulders. Frolicked. Cas had actually said that.

Cas had also seemed aghast to learn Dean didn’t know how to waltz, and Dean took it upon himself to become the best damn waltzer the world had ever seen, just to swipe that look off Cas’s horrified face. After centuries watching the humanity, it shouldn’t be much of a surprise not everyone possessed the same exact skill-set as the next human, but for some unimaginable reason, Cas had thought everybody could dance. At least a little bit. Like, you know. Waltz.

So here they were, in the bunker library having cleared them some room and dragged the gramophone out with some old records.

Dean trusted Cas to choose the tunes, since he had little idea what those old, dusty records held. The names on them told Dean nothing, apart from the Mozart and Vivaldi he’d seen when flipping through the sleeves, but that was classical music. Dean wasn’t about to become a professional ballroom dancer.

Cas put a disk in the gramophone, treating the needle with care as he lowered it, the scratchy sound of an old record filling the air the next instant.

Cas held out his hand to Dean, inviting him to him, and Dean went, for some reason, nervous.

Dean shook his arms and stepped closer, placing his left hand on Cas’s shoulder, and the other into Cas’s open palm, looking away from Cas’s face and down to his socked feet. At least there would be less violently treaded toes this way.

Cas lift Dean’s chin up; “Look at me, Dean. Look at _me,_ not your feet. It’s me you’re dancing with. Just let go. _Trust_ me.”

Dean knew the pace, the one-two-three, but applying it to practice was a lot harder than it sounded.

With Cas’s arm around him, he did feel more comfortable, and he kept his eyes on Cas’s, his lips moving minutely as he counted, ready to dance the shit out of this waltz.

“Relax, Dean,” Cas’s eyes smiled and Dean felt his heart skip a beat. The music went on around them and they hadn’t taken even a step yet, Cas waiting out Dean’s nervousness.

Dean shook himself and snapped his mouth shut, trying his best to actually let loose. He took a breath and nodded, blowing out the air; “Let’s rock n’ roll.”

Cas’s smile grew wider, his hold on Dean firmer; “No. We will waltz. We’ll _glide_.”

Leading, Cas took the first step, and to Dean’s imminent surprise, he found himself moving along.

The counting was going on somewhere in the background of his mind still, but he didn’t have to concentrate on it. It just was there. And Dean was held in Cas’s hands like something precious, his feet following on their own volition, and the burst of exhilaration was dizzying as it flowed in Dean’s chest.

He was dancing with Cas.

There was that scratching sound again, indicating that the record had ended, and Dean almost ran to the gramophone, setting the needle back to the start with fingers that shook only slightly.

He turned around, and there Cas was, bowing down low, a solemn look on his face, asking Dean for this dance. Dean nearly curtsied.

Instead, he walked into Cas’s embrace, arranging their positions, letting Cas guide him. He let Cas teach him how to move in a completely new way, and he could almost swear his feet didn’t touch the floor at all. And he couldn’t keep his eyes off Cas. Even blinking took too long, since Cas was glowing.

There was color high on his cheeks, lips parted slightly, eyes shining and so obviously enjoying himself, Dean wondered why they hadn’t done this before. It was something Dean’s heart would never forget.

After another turn, Cas brought Dean so close their chests almost touched, arms bent at the elbow and their hands between them. It was intimate in a way Dean had never experienced. Never knew he wanted.

When the record ended, neither the men noticed. The music that filled them was their closeness, their kiss, and their hearts beating next to each other.

“

***


	74. It's In The Nature

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 900  
> Impala!sex, sort of, hand jobs, marking, biting

For a blink Dean was convinced he was dreaming and he’d wake up any moment now, because this couldn’t be his reality, his fantasies come true in one fell swoop. But the image stayed and smiled at him, stretching like a cat on the hood of the impala, wearing only an unbuttoned shirt and nothing else.

They’d come by the forest enclosure by accident, when all they’d been doing was driving around in the cooling summer evening, just because.

Dean had noticed a trail wide enough for baby, and decided they should investigate further. There was no one around for miles, and Cas, under the guise of feeling hot, had started to take off his clothes.

What really happened, was Dean getting a private show as Cas had shimmied out of his slacks and the rest, then hopped on the Impala, on perfect display, that knowing smile on his lips that Dean had been conditioned to want to swallow whole. This was his reality; a stunning, disheveled Cas leaning on the windshield, an arm behind his head, one foot propped on the bumper, his other leg hanging from the hood, his toes almost touching the grass, and his cock in hand, pumping slowly.

Though the air was cooling, Dean felt hotter than he’d had all day. There were so many things he wanted to do at once; Rush up to Cas and kiss him stupid, stand back and just watch, watch and remember each flick of Cas’s thumb over the tip of his cock, and just go to him and fuck him until he howled.

Rooted into place, Dean pressed the heel of his hand to his own cock, fully erect, because he’s have to be dead not to be, and the confines of his jeans were becoming very uncomfortable.

Basically, Dean’s cock made the call, giving Dean very little wiggle room, as his feet carried him to stand in the haphazard vee of Cas’s legs, his hands finding smooth skin on the underside of Cas’s thigh, all the way up to Cas’s ass.

Sliding his hands over Cas’s hips on both sides, Dean grabbed a hold and hauled Cas to him, Cas letting out a surprised little laugh that went straight to Dean’s cock.

“Oh, my,” Cas had that coy, under-the-lashes- look down pat. “What ever are you going to do with me, mister?”

Cas sat up on the hood, wrapping his legs and arms around Dean and kissing him, all tongue and slick lips, needy and gorgeous. Dean wanted to pinch himself, but the nip Cas gave to Dean’s lower lip did the trick and confirmed that this most definitely was not a dream.

Dean licked a stripe over Cas’s throat, pausing to suck a mark there, his cock pulsing in his jeans as Cas let out a groan right in his ear, shivers running down Dean’s spine as Cas’s long, delighted ‘ _ahh_ ’ reverberated through him.

“Keep doing that,” Cas growled, his hands going to the fastenings of Dean’s jeans, nimbly opening them and taking Dean’s cock out through the slit in his boxers. Cas’s hand was sweet relief as his fingers wrapped around Dean’s erection, thumbing the ridge on the head.

Dean continued sucking little marks on Cas’s skin, knowing that the angel would keep them there for a few days before allowing them to heal, and that thought, at this moment, nearly undid him.

Cas’s other hand that wasn’t busy with Dean’s cock, went to Dean’s head, fingers pulling at the short strands, and Dean looked up, eyes glassed over with lust, his mouth wet, delectable, and irresistible to Cas.

During the kiss, Cas guided Dean’s hand to his cock, putting his own hand over Deans fingers briefly, before leaning back on his arm with a moan.

Small thrusts upwards, and Cas was fucking Dean’s hand while his own deft hand pulled and twisted Dean’s cock skillfully, making Dean gasp.

Cas threw his head back, revealing the long column of his throat, and with the sight of Dean’s ministrations so obviously on display, it released something primal in Dean. Something feral.

Dean sucked on Cas’s skin, biting down, careful at first, but the sounds Cas made, the way he whimpered and groaned, the way he bucked into Dean’s hand, made him bite down harder.

It was arousal and pure ownership in one whirling, mindless thought; _Mine._ And Dean kept his teeth there, pushing into Cas’s hand, needing to come, to claim, knowing Cas was right there with him. Nothing but two animals celebrating their togetherness.

“Dean, yes, _yes, ah_ , I’m, _ohh_ … .” Cas clamped his hand behind Dean’s neck, holding him there while he orgasmed, his hips spasming up to the pulse of his cock, heart racing with endorphins and belonging.

Dean came mere seconds later, having to let go of Cas’s throat to wail out his pleasure, before bending forth, pressing the top of his head to Cas’s bare chest, breathing hard.

Cas hauled Dean up into an embrace, peppering little kisses to Dean’s cheeks and mouth, looking disheveled and so very pleased with himself.

Dean returned the embrace, the affection, and brushed his finger over the abused flesh on Cas neck.

“Mmm,” Cas purred, tired, but obviously content. ”I’m going to keep that there for at least a week. And then you can make some more.”

It wasn’t a dream. It was so much better.

***


	75. Come Out Wherever You Are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 1600  
> Written for a prompt by hope+travis 'sexy hide and go seek', and this is what came from that.  
> frottage, hand job

How they ended up here wasn’t all that long of a story at all. They were just following some leads for that shapeshifter, donned their fed suits, and wound up here, in this fucking _mansion_ where there was a party in full swing, and by the looks of it, it had been going on for at least two days previous. Oh, to be rich and debauched.

Well. At least rich. Dean supposed he got the debauched part all covered.

Their intentions, Dean, Sam and Cas’s, had been to go in, ask a few questions and make a hasty retreat, but that hadn’t gone quite according to plan, since the Lady of the house, some old-money- type, had popped a ‘glass of bubbly’ in each of their hands and insisted that more was merrier. That was three glasses ago, and there was no end in sight. The woman wouldn’t take no for an answer either, so they’d apparently agreed to join the party for dinner.

They were in the living area, or that’s what Dean supposed it was since there was a massive flat screen TV in the room, and about fourteen people were mingling with each other, lots of white smiles that of a shark and thrown back heads in fake laughs. Splendid.

“Everyone! Everyone!” The Lady of the house, ‘Call me Evelyn, dear,’ was trying to get their attention. She looked excited, actually bouncing lightly on her heels, and either the champagne was making her blush, or she was _really_ into what she was about to say next.

“Everyone!” Evelyn repeated cheerfully, glancing around the room to confirm everyone was looking at her. “There’s still time before dinner, so I thought we should play…” If she didn’t have the glass in her hand, Dean could’ve sword she’s clapped in excitement. “A game!”

A murmur went through the room, some people perking up, some trying to dwindle down into nothing, and some, like Cas, for example, staying in place, not really understanding what was going on. Dean just groaned and slumped further down into the couch.

“We’re going to play hide and go seek!” Evelyn actually bounced this time with her announcement, sloshing some of her drink on the floor, and taking a sip after the fact. “I’ll even volunteer to be the first to search! It’s my house, I should be able to find you all in no time at all,” she smirked drunkenly, winked at one of the younger men, and sipped from her glass again.

A glance to Sam’s direction nearly sent Dean into stitches. The man looked so stricken it was hilarious, and Dean kind of felt for him. Where was he going to hide his massive Sasquatch self? Behind a curtain? Not that Dean or Cas fared any better, but they at least had a chance… Wait a second. They were actually doing this, instead of hightailing it out of here. For what?

Dean didn’t get an answer to his inner questioning before Evelyn had set down the glass and was actually clapping and explaining that he would count to a hundred, and the last person to be found would be the winner. Outside of the house was out of bounds, but hiding anywhere in the house was fine, as long as they didn’t bother the help.

It seemed cut and dry to Dean, so he figured Cas got the rules too. They were actually doing this. Playing hide and go seek with a bunch of strangers with silver spoons in their mouths. Brilliant.

Evelyn turned to face the wall, closing her eyes and starting to count slowly, everybody shooting out of their seats and starting to scramble for a hiding place. So did Dean.

He was a few steps away from the couch when he realized Cas wasn’t beside him, or hadn’t moved at all, so Dean went back. “Dude. You’re supposed to go hide.”

“I’m aware. I’m just looking for the best place to hide in,” Cas was nonplussed by Dean’s franticness.

“By sitting there?”

“Yes. Though I’m going to move now, and I suggest you come with me. We might win.”

“We could win?” Dean did not just get excited about that. What was _wrong_ with him? “Let’s go!”

Cas led the way to the stairway, up to the second floor and down a corridor, then stopped at an unassuming looking door and yanked it open, revealing a broom closet that could fit in two grown men if they _really_ made an effort. So they did.

Dean and Cas squeezed into the small space and Cas pulled the door shut after them. “What do we do now?” Cas asked, quiet.

“We wait.”

“We wait. For how long?”

“Until Evelyn comes and finds us. That’s the rules.”

“But it’s going to be a long wait. Are you sure we should not just grab Sam and leave?”

“And _not_ win this game? No!”

“Alright.”

They stood in the broom closet for a while, shifting weight from one foot to another, then back again, before Cas shifted a breath away from Dean, facing him directly. Without a word, he kissed Dean, who returned it, surprised, but always happy to comply.

“Cas, what are you doing?” Dean whispered when Cas’s hands started to roam under Dean’s jacket.

“Passing the time. Evelyn won’t find us in the next forty minutes, at least.”

“Huh. That is a long time to be standing around.”

“Yes, so I suggest we make good use of the time and start kissing now. That way we can both orgasm and go find an easier hiding place in less than twenty minutes. Unless you want to stay here.”

Sometimes, Cas’s pillow talk could use some brushing up, but it always seemed to do the trick with Dean. Especially with Cas’s hand pressing to the front of his slacks and rubbing his cock through the cloth.

“That sounds like a plan,” Dean kissed Cas, opening his belt and pushing his hips against Cas’s.

There wasn’t much room at all, so they were limited to thrusting their hands down each other’s pants, but it was also a thrill. Dean didn’t think Cas was wrong with his estimation, but it was always possible someone would come in, needing something from the closet, something Cas didn’t take into account, and it made the hair in the back of Dean’s head stand up.

This was nice. Macking with his angel, feeling his hard-on against his palm, the wet spot in his briefs where he was leaking precome, obviously as turned on by the situation as Dean was. Dean too his hand away from between them, pushing his cock flush against Cas’s, rubbing him against it hard.

Cas was on board, grabbing Dean’s hips with one hand and wrapping his other around Dean’s waist, swallowing down all Dean's noises and trusting Dean to do the same for him.

Dean’s hands slid down to Cas’s ass, bringing him impossibly closer, their clothed cocks pressed together, but there were still clothes between them.

Frustrated with that, Cas moved fast, opening buttons and yanking both their pants mid-thigh, then crushing them back together again, now so much closer than before, naked flesh meeting, the heat between them impossible to handle soundlessly, but only a mewl escaped Cas’s lips before Dean’s were on his, devouring all sounds Cas made.

It was frantic, their cocks sliding against each other, against their bellies, their breaths shared and their hands seeking for skin under shirts, Cas’s fingers finding their way down the crevice of Dean’s ass and lower, until the tip of his middle finger was at Dean’s hole, applying pressure but not intruding. Cas was just circling the furled opening, making Dean gasp for air and come on their stomachs, panting Cas’s name almost soundlessly.

Quickly, Dean gathered his come on his palm and took Cas in hand, a few fast strokes, and Cas was gritting his teeth, swallowing Dean’s name he was about to holler to the world, cock pumping hot come on Dean’s wrist, and finally slumping his head down to Dean’s shoulder. Just for a minute. He just needed a minute.

Dean dropped a hand to the back of Cas’s head, sighing; “You’re incredible, Cas. You know that?” Cas answered with a kiss.

The men went to dress themselves up again, Dean swiping Cas’s come on his sock in his haste, and just in time too, as they heard footsteps coming closer.

The door opened at the exact same moment Cas had tucked his shirt back in his slacks, the men standing there like two deer in headlights, and there was Evelyn, beaming at them; “Found you!”

Cas and Dean smiled benevolently, properly miffed at being found, and follower Evelyn’s instructions to join the others downstairs. There was still someone Evelyn hadn’t found, so they were welcome to help themselves for an aperitif.

Going down the stairs, something occurred to Dean; “You said we had forty minutes. Cas, that was barely fifteen!”

“I may have miscalculated,” Cas said out loud, but the look on his face spoke volumes. Dean tried had to fight his grin but lost the battle. He was speechless. Every day, there was something Cas surprised him with, some new aspect came around and left him reeling. Every single day. Dean knew he’d never have a dull day for the rest of his life.

Mulling on this revelation, Dean stepped into the living room and found the vast majority of the guests there, slightly bored expressions on their rich faces. There was only one person Evelyn still hadn’t found.

Sam.

***


	76. Storytime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 500  
> Self-indulgent fluff. I just wanted to hear Cas tell a story :)

”Did you know,” Cas began quietly, startling Dean who had been focused on staring into nothing. Their contact was late and it was becoming irritating. “How pigeons lost their color? They used to be _much_ more colorful.” Cas continued, unperturbed by Dean’s jump, watching the pigeons in the park where they were sitting on a bench.

“No,” Dean leaned his elbows to his knees, turning his head towards Cas.

Sometimes Cas had the tendency of breaking into a story in a stagnating situation, like this one was becoming, and told some tall tale or a legend Dean had a hard time to believe in. Still, he listened keenly, since it was Cas talking, and he could be reading the phonebook and have Dean’s undivided attention.

“Back in Alcheringa, the aboriginal Dreamworld, a long time before humans, all birds except the Dove were black as night,” Cas copied Dean’s posture, their heads bent towards each other like they were sharing a secret.

“One day the Dove got his leg stuck in a tree branch. He couldn’t shake it off, as it only buried deeper with each try, and the dove cried with great pain,” Cas took one of Dean’s hands between his own, since it was so conveniently there. “All the other birds hurried to see what the matter was, and saw there was little they could do to help the Dove.”

Cas was playing with Dean’s fingers, a faraway look in his eyes. Everyone else was there, but the Crow was staying in the background, envious of the attention the Dove was getting.” Cas met Dean’s eyes, a small smile on his lips. “After a while, the Crow just left, deciding he’d had enough, but the Galah cockatoo had other ideas; She wanted to help, and since there wasn’t much left to do, she took her sharp beak to the Doves leg and bit it, almost breaking it off.”

Dean was so enthralled with the story he simply forgot where he was. There was sadness in Cas’s eyes, and Dean wanted to fix that. Now. He lifted Cas’s hand to his lips, kissing his fingers, and nodded for Cas to continue.

“Suddenly there were colors spilling out from the Dove’s leg, a spill that caught all the birds that had gathered around him, painting them with all the colors that were draining out of himself. But he was still stuck, so the Cockatoo bit him again, this time causing an even bigger spill as the leg severed, and all the other birds were bathing in the colors, until the Dove was left with only his mottled grey.”

Cas squeezed Dean’s hand, looking at the pigeons again in silence, not expecting Dean to say anything.

“Cas,” Dean shifted, searching Cas’s eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I wasn’t,” Cas answered bluntly, then smiled more widely, the shine reaching his eyes. “But I’m alright now. It was a memory from a long time ago, but it’s a better one now that it’s with you.”

***


	77. For Your Eyes Only

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Mature  
> Word count: 400  
> fluffy-ish

It hadn’t taken much convincing to get Cas here, lazing on the bed in only his green bathrobe. Dean had only mentioned that wouldn’t mind having some pictures to keep him company when Cas was away, and Cas had, deadpan, asked why they hadn’t done this before.

Cas’s hair was wet from their shower, the bathrobe open with only the belt tied loosely across Cas’s abdomen, his cock resting against his thigh, half hard. There was always something exciting about the way Dean looked at him that got to him, and now those hungry eyes seemed to be devouring him.

Dean stood at the foot of the bed, his phone in hand, clad only in boxers, a flush rising over his throat and higher. He had all kinds of ideas what to do with Cas once he got the pictures he wanted, but right now, he just wanted to watch.

Cas was beautiful in his total confidence in his nakedness, his knee bent and his other leg straight, an arm behind his head, while his other hand was resting below the belt. He looked _soft_ , somehow, like air itself daren’t disturb him, and light bent at his will. Some day, Dean swore to himself, he’d get a real camera and do this all over again, properly.

Dean took a few pictures, trying to keep his hand steady, but it was difficult when Cas’s cock kept stealing his attention twitching, rising, filling up and making Dean salivate.

“Cas,” Dean swallowed, his voice coming out rough. “Would you touch yourself for me?”

Cas smiled benevolently, then smoothed his hand down his belly, touching his cock with his fingertips, teasing himself to full hardness. “I’d rather you touched me, Dean,” Cas beamed at Dean, but still folding his fingers around his cock, giving it a few slow pulls. Dean’s phone kept clicking pictures.

“I want pictures of you too,” Cas sighed, closing his eyes briefly, stretching on the bed, his hand delving down to play with his sack, before shifting his gaze back to Dean.

“Yeah, of course,” Dean responded, then pressed the heel of his hand to the obscene tenting in his boxers with a gulp. “Cas?”

“Yes?” Cas knew exactly what he was doing to Dean when he squeezed out a large drop of precome, then let go of his cock.

“...Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“Do you mind if I take video?”

***


	78. Never Leave Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Mature  
> Word count: 200  
> angsty schmoop, bottom!Cas

It was pure happiness surrounding them, elation thrumming through Dean’s veins as he made love to Cas, slow, loving, and so grateful to have Cas here.

Dean didn’t want to close his eyes, not when Cas was looking at him like that, adoration glimmering in his eyes, reflected from Dean’s own. Wrapped tightly together, as close as two persons could ever be, closer even, since what they got was rare.

And they knew how to cherish it. How to cherish each other. And at times like these. their love was life-affirming and blossomed between them.

Cas wrapped his legs around Dean tighter, stilling him, holding him inside himself, and kissed Dean softly.

Minutes passed with nothing in their world than each other’s lips, the way their skin felt under their fingers, how easy it was to course a hand through each other’s hair, and to forget everything else.

Cas released Dean enough for him to move again, Dean’s thrusts lingering, more caressing than anything, Cas breathing in deep the musk of Dean’s neck.

Though they didn’t talk about it in words, losing one another had been a possibility today. Their actions, here, in private, were a testament to their horror.

***


	79. It's In Your Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 200  
> schmoop

What was remarkable, in Dean’s opinion, was how there were never awkward silences with Cas. Sure, they’d have those at the beginning, when they were still only learning the ins and outs of one another, but now, a silence could stretch on and still feel like they were completely on the same page, a silence which in many ways, spoke more than words ever could.

Cas had been staring at Dean over the table for the past five minutes or so, not doing anything, just looking, a small curve of his mind revealing that he wasn’t just lost in his thoughts, but fully focused on Dean.

Once upon a time, it would’ve made Dean squirm in his skin, made him tell Cas to stop, how it was creepy how Cas seemed to take inventory of Dean’s face.

It had taken come conversation, more than once, to get to this point, but the most important thing was that Dean and Cas could be themselves in each other’s company.

No shy glances, no looking away when their eyes met. Only warmth and love being expressed in subtle ways that made Dean feel confident about himself, of Cas.

Confident that this was everlasting.

***


	80. Kiss A Wish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 600  
> fluffity, fluffity fluff, wings

In the darkness of their room, Dean nearly asleep with Cas on his side, woke up entirely. Something very, very soft touched his cheek. When he turned his head, that something was in his face.

He lifted his hand to swipe it away, but was stopped when he felt that same softness on his hand. It was on him like a blanket, and at the same time, it wasn’t something Dean could actually touch. He turned on the light on the nightstand and drew in a hurried breath.

He must’ve made a sound, since Cas was now opening his eyes blearily. “Is everything okay Dean?”

Dean sat up in the bed, waving his hand and watching the shadows on the wall, blinking hard. “It’s… Cas,” Dean’s eyes were wide, shocked. “Your wings. They’re… Here.”

Cas was looking at Dean, dumfound, and Dean tried again; “I felt them. I touched your wing.”

Cas sat up too, now wide awake. “That’s impossible. You must’ve been dreaming.”

“I wasn’t asleep, I swear,” Dean swallowed, pointing at the wall where the shadows of Cas’s wings were a mass of black, shifting with Cas’s movements. “I felt something on my face, and why are your wings showing anyway?”

“I’m not sure,” Cas turned from the wall to Dean again. “I had a dream, you were there, and I remember wishing you could—” Cas snapped his mouth shut, staring at Dean with awe. “I wished you could feel my wings. It’s a reoccurring dream, I dream about it a lot, probably because I would like it to be real, but it’s—”

“If you say ‘impossible’, I’m going to kick you out of this bed,” Dean grinned, his eyes shining with excitement. “That was it. You did it.”

“That’s…” Cas held up a hand to stop Dean from speaking. “Unheard of.” Dean closed his mouth. “It’s unheard of for an angel’s wings to manifest physically on this plane of existence, but maybe, if we’re both on the brink of sleep, then…” Cas laid back down, drawing Dean with him, holding him close.

“Cas?” Dean went very still. “Did you just put your wing over me?”

“Yes? I always do, why do y— Oh. _Oh_.”

Dean shut his eyes, a smile alighting his face. “It’s so _soft_. And warm.”

“And _impossible_ , Dean,” Cas wrapped his wing around Dean tighter, testing as much as just wanting to.

“Then if this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up in the next eight or so hours. But it wouldn’t be the first time you did something impossible only because you wanted to.” Dean settled his head on Cas’s shoulder, soaking in the feel of the gossamer-like wing over him, around him, feeling more protected than he’d had in his life.

“It’s not a dream. Or if it is, we’re both having the same one. Can you feel this?” Cas shifted his wing to caress Dean’s cheek, concentrating on the act so hard it made his eyes glow.

“Yes,” Dean smiled, his heart thumping hard as the feeling grew, that soft warmth and pure love pouring to Dean through Cas’s wing. It was overwhelming.

“Maybe it’s something I could practice,” Cas whispered, stunned by the momentous act of touching Dean in a way that should by all rights truly _be_ impossible. “Maybe, someday, you could even see them.”

Dean closed his eyes happily, snuggling closer. “Maybe. But right now… Cas?” Dean felt so cozy.

“Yes, Dean?”

“Will you just hold me?”

Wrapped around each other, slowly, they fell asleep.

Cas’s wings were the first thing Dean saw in the morning.

***


	81. Bathtime In Nevada

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 800  
> Written from EthneDragon's prompt 'Bath'. ♥  
> bath!sex, hand job

It was a rarity, but sometimes they struck gold with these hotel rooms. What with only few rooms occupied, Dean had managed a deal that scored them two rooms, and the one he and Cas were staying in could be better described as a suite.

It had everything, plus amazing room service. And that everything included a bath tub that could host a horse, never mind two grown men. Cas had actually groaned out loud once he saw it.

So it was that after a delicious dinner, brought right to their doorstep, Cas had gone straight for the bath, leaving water running whilst he cajoled Dean into joining him.

Not that Dean actually had anything against a bath. He just liked the way Cas cajoled. With his tongue…

Cas had even found bath salts, and the entire room smelled amazing, Dean relaxing in the tub with Cas right in the vee of his legs, the back of his head to Dean’s shoulder.

Cas’s eyes were closed, his whole face speaking of peace and comfort, while Dean ran his hand across Cas’s water-slick chest, palm passing over Cas’s nipple every now and then, sending a tendril of heat down Cas’s spine.

It wasn’t long until Dean’s fingers found the path of his palm, tweaking the now erect nipple just a bit, making Cas gasp softly and look up at Dean, his smile turning gleeful.

Cas shifted himself in Dean’s lap, pressing his body against Dean’s cock more firmly, playing the game by Dean’s rules. He was soon rewarded by the feeling of Dean growing harder, Dean’s fingers continuing their play with Cas.

“You want to take this to the bed?” Cas asked, half-mast himself, logic spelling that they could always run the bath again. There was nothing stopping them.

Except Dean and his cunning mind that always managed to surprise Cas in the best of ways.

“Not just yet, Cas. We haven’t even washed up yet. What’s the rush?” There was a lilt to Dean’s voice that said he was teasing himself as much as Cas, but since he’d made up his mind, he might as well go with it.

Dean got the shampoo and poured some of it on his hand, then began to lather up Cas’s hair, the angel leaning back to Dean’s hands with a sigh, blissed out from the feel of Dean’s strong fingers massaging his scalp.

Going with Dean’s cues, Cas slunk down and got his head below the water so Dean could rinse, then got up again, only to be hauled up in Dean’s lap, Dean’s cock fitting snugly in the crevice of Cas’s ass.

Dean’s hands kept wandering along Cas’s body, skimming over Cas’s thighs, his abdomen, dipping his finger into Cas’s bellybutton, then lower, only slightly running his fingers over Cas’s cock, a pleased sound escaping Dean’s lips when he discovered Cas was hard as a rock.

“You’re so good to me, Cas,” Dean crooned, his arm wrapping around Cas’s chest. “So hard for me.”

With his words, Dean took a firm grip of Cas’s cock, giving it a long tug, sighing when Cas moaned softly.

Cas laid his head so that he was almost cheek to cheek with Dean, turning his head in vain to kiss Dean, groaning in frustration when their position didn’t allow it.

“Shh, Cas. Just let me, relax. Let go,” Dean whispered into Cas’s ear, nipping at his earlobe and sucking it between his lips, making Cas’s back curve and his hips push right into Dean’s hold.

Cas fell almost limp against Dean, the feel of Dean breathing into his ear adding to the feel of Dean’s hand finding a good pace on his cock, so that all Cas could do was grip to the sides of the tub for the ride.

Dean let his arm slide under the water, his hand traveling beneath Cas’s thigh, fingers finding Cas’s furled opening and prodding gently, making Cas plead breathily; “Please, Dean. Do it. I want it. I want you!”

And who was Dean to deny his angel? He pushed his middle finger through the slight resistance, Cas keening and pushing against the intrusion, taking in as much as he could, while Dean’s other hand worked on Cas’s cock.

Cas began to thrust shallowly into Dean’s hand, baring his throat when he tossed his head back, Dean’s breath heavy in his ear as the man practically devoured the show Cas was putting on, his cock aching to follow his finger.

Seconds later, Cas was went still, a guttural moan rumbling in his chest as his cock pulsed, his creamy come floating in the bath water before dissolving.

“Oops,” Dean grinned as widely as Cas did, giving a long lick to Cas’s earlobe. “Looks like we have to run another bath.”

***


	82. Huggybear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 300  
> hugs, fluff

From a Cupid’s greeting to this, it had been quite the distance for Cas to travel. Something that was once only a formality to endure, Cas had come to understand the depth of a single hug. How much love it carried, how much sense of belonging it brought, how it established that by hugging, Cas could ascertain that Dean stayed put, and wasn’t going anywhere. Not right this minute.

It was a pleasure Cas would’ve never thought he’d come to crave for, and would take every opportunity to get. And what was even more important, was that Dean never denied him.

It was incredible how many types of hugs there were too.

Dean might be reading, and Cas would approach him from behind, wrapping his arms around Dean’s shoulders with a kiss to his temple, and Dean would hold Cas’s arms to him, hum, pleased, and just stay there for Cas to hold as long as he liked.

There was the ‘Welcome Home’- hug that Cas maybe attributed the most feelings to. How it was a tight embrace with smiles and filled with joy of coming back.

There was the sleepy evening hug that came after their clothes were off and they were too tired to do much else, still craving for closeness and the assurance that the other was there. Though the hold was strong, there was softness there, any edges remaining from the day being padded with love and just wanting to be present.

One of Cas’s favorites was the one where Dean hugged Cas from behind, planting his chin on Cas’s shoulder and just watching Cas do whatever it was that he was doing to his fill. Just… Being close.

There were hundreds of variations. And with Dean, Castiel got to experience them all, one by one.

***


	83. Let's Work On That Tension

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 800  
> Written from EthneDragon's prompt 'massage with a happy ending'.  
> hand jobs

Dean was lying on his stomach on the towels covering the sheets on the bed, head nested over his hands. Naked and Cas sitting atop of Dean’s thighs, plying massage oil to his back, it was heaven on earth.

Cas warmed the oil between his hands before diving in, pressing his palms to the muscles in Dean’s upper back, where he’s held his tension all day. It was time to get rid of it.

Groaning, Dean shut his eyes and concentrated on the feel of Cas’s clever fingers kneading his shoulders, every once in a while sweeping over Dean’s upper arm, only to return to his upper back.

Cas was being very thorough with his work, and tried his best to ignore the sounds Dean was making, but his cock had other ideas.

An especially long moan with Cas’s thumbs digging under Dean’s shoulder blades, and Cas lost the battle of wills. There was no denying it; Dean making all those noises, Cas fired up. That’s just how it was.

Cas kneaded Dean’s back further, pressing his thumbs beside the knobs of his spine, pushing out a small moan out of Dean each time, and once Cas got lower on Dean’s back, Cas’s hands became more gentle with their touch, mostly just smearing the oil over the top of Dean’s buttocks tenderly.

He gave Dean’s ass a playful slap. “Time to turn over, Dean.” Cas’s voice was more gruff than usual.

Dean as if waking from a trance, shifted and Cas gave him room to turn onto his back, realizing quickly that Dean was in the same predicament as Cas.

Dean blinked blearily at Cas, still completely under his spell, and got comfortable, unabashed by his erection, and eyeing Cas’s boxers with growing interest.

Cas straddled Dean’s thighs again and got some more of the oil, again warming it before placing his hands over Dean’s pectorals, his touch firm but pleasant in all the right ways.

He slid his hands on both sides of Dean’s ribcage, fitting his fingers between Dean’s ribs, feeling Dean having relaxed tremendously from before. He continued smoothing the oil over Dean’s upper abdomen, raising his eyes to Dean’s face and finding the man staring at him.

Dean’s lips looked wet, as if he’d been licking them a lot, and the look in his eyes grew darker by the second.

“Want to come here?” Dean smirked, voice low. “There’s still places you haven’t worked on and they’re _very_ hard and in need of your attention.” Dean took Cas by the arms, pulling him down, not caring if Cas got all oiled up in the process.

“What places might those be?” Cas didn’t wait for an answer, kissing Dean hungrily, pushing back when he felt Dean thrusting his hips up.

Not letting up their kiss, Dean searched blindly for the massage oil, and found it, nudging Cas’s shoulder with the bottle.

Cas took it, licking a tripe over Dean’s lower lip and sitting up, then rolled over on his back agilely to rid himself of his underwear. He was back in a flash, where he started, sitting on Dean’s thighs.

Cas poured some of the oil onto his palm, then threw aside the bottle.

Leaning on his elbow, Cas reached Dean’s lips again, kissing him deeply while he gathered both their erections in hand, spreading the oil over their lengths.

Dean held Cas in place by the back of his neck, fingers in his hair, their tongues playing with each other’s, while Dean’s other hand delved down between them, meeting Cas’s fingers and interlacing them.

Their cocks were pushed together, and their hands provided rest of the friction. It was all Cas could do not to just thrust into Dean’s hand until he’d spent himself. But the way Dean was kissing him, told him he wanted to take his time, and Cas had no objections. He’d come to appreciate delayed gratification.

Dean was guiding the pace at which their hands worked their cocks, both men groaning, the need for air turning their devouring kisses into light touching of lips, licks and nips, until Cas dropped his head down to Dean’s neck, laving his tongue over Dean’s pulse point.

Delayed gratification would have to wait another day, since Cas began to fuck into their hands and against Dean’s cock in steady pace, giving Dean’s cock the friction Dean was dying for, and soon Dean’s eyes clamped shut, his whole body trembling as he shot his load on Cas’s abdomen and chest, the moan Dean let out being the last incentive Cas needed to fall over the precipice of his own orgasm.

Cas flopped down on Dean, who instantly wrapped his arms around Cas.

A few breaths later, Cas could feel Dean grinning against his ear; “Your turn, baby.”

***


	84. WayTo A Man's Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 300  
> fluff, pie

”Hello, Dean,” Cas walked up to Dean in the Batcave’s garage where Dean was buried under the hood of the Impala.

“Hey, Cas! I found what was making that banshee noise,” Dean stood up to peck a kiss to Cas’s lips and bent under the hood again. “All I need to do is change the spark plugs and she’s ready to roll again.”

“That’s good,” Cas stepped closer, tucking his hand in the back pocket of Dean’s jeans, leaning over to watch Dean work. “Sam says dinner’s ready in about fifteen. I thought you might be interested.”

“I’m famished,” Dean handed Cas a removed plug, starting on the next one, the men working together like clockwork. “Couldn’t have timed it better myself.”

Cas’s smile was that of one completely happy in their existence, leaning into Dean, whispering in his ear as if a secret; “I helped out a little. I made pie.”

Dean stopped all movement, then got up slowly, eyes comically wide. He looked at Cas like he hung the Moon. “You’re awesome. Have I told you how much I love you?”

“Repeatedly,” Cas grinned, then removed his hand from Dean’s pocket and raising it to wipe a smudge of engine grease from Dean’s cheek with his thumb, leaving his hand there, cupping Dean’s face. “But it’s always a pleasure to hear it again.” Cas kissed Dean gently, a long, loving touch of lips, precedent to Cas’s words; “I love you too, Dean.”

Cas stepped back without another word, plopping the spark plugs into a box, and left Dean to finish up here.

Once Cas disappeared back inside, Dean stared after him, smiling dreamily, wiping his hands to a rag in deep thought. He had no clue what it was, but he must’ve done _something_ good to earn _this_.

***


	85. All In A Word

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 300  
> Cas reflecting on semantics ;)

It was gradual. It had happened without Castiel’s awareness, almost like sneaking behind his back when Cas wasn’t looking, but he’d come to appreciate profanities.

The way Dean cursed and his eyes rolled back in his head when Cas took his cock deep in his throat, the “ _fuck_ , Cas,” spurring Cas on, making his own cock ache with need to hear that sound again.

There was a time and place for everything, that’s what Cas had learned, and he had been known to use that kind of language himself, unaware that he was doing it, just something, anything coming from his mouth, unthinking, to let Dean know how much he liked the way Dean thrust his fingers inside Cas’s hole, licking around them, then retreating his fingers and replacing them with his tongue.

That was a perfect place for a heartfelt “fuck… _Dean_ ” when Cas felt all molten inside, pacified and so greedy for more at the same time.

It was the epitome of expressing something in a single word, like how Dean, gulping, eyes almost glassy with lust, on all fours and ass in the air, made it a demand Cas could and would never resist.

How so much could be expressed with so little came with having to understand what the situation warranted, and in that, Cas was very good at. So good, that most times he managed to render Dean speechless, mind gone to a place where words weren’t needed at all, and all that mattered were the beautiful groans and whimpers, undecipherable to anyone but Cas.

Those sound came with touch, feeling those noises building up under his hands, to know what to do, instinctively, to wring that last, animalistic “ _Fuck!_ ” out of Dean before he came, breathless.

Cas had _really_ learned to like that word.

***


	86. I Got You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 700  
> shower sex, bottom!Dean

Shower sex had become significantly less complicated when Cas had strutted into Dean’s life and showed him how it was _done_.

That was the thought that passed through Dean’s mind when he wrapped his arms around Cas’s neck and hopped up, Cas catching him under his thighs easily, maneuvering him onto his arms, holding Dean’s weight sturdily, so that Dean’s back was against the shower wall, practically all his weight help up by Cas. And the angel didn’t falter at all.

It was exhilarating, like it always was being manhandled by Cas, his immense strength somewhat hidden at first glance, but so very obvious in moments like these.

Dean had a huge grin on his face, his eyes gleaming, legs held wide apart and his ass clenching around the emptiness that was to be filled in the next second.

Cas adjusted his stance, guiding his straining cock to Dean’s hole, pushing in with one long, slow thrust, panting, pressing his forehead against Dean’s, and pushing in further, lifting Dean against the wall with the strength behind it.

Cas got his hands under Dean’s ass, spreading his cheeks apart and pulling him towards himself until Dean whimpered and clutched Cas’s neck, blunt fingernails scratching Cas’s wet skin, hot water pouring over them.

The next moment, Cas withdrew almost all the way out, just to start pounding Dean’s ass, targeting his sweet spot with every move, making Dean keen and grasp at Cas’s shoulders, just hanging on for the ride, his head tossed back against the wall.

“That’s it, Cas. Lay it on me. Fuck me through this fucking wall!” To be able to let go like this, his everything in Cas’s capable hands, it was liberating on a whole other level.

“You can’t take what I have to give,” Cas smirked, fucking up into Dean harder, the slap of skin on skin echoing in the bathroom, the water sluicing down over them making the sound that much stronger.

Dean grinned, the tone of Cas’s voice squirming around and coiling together with the heat at the base of his spine. At this rate, this wouldn’t take long at all. “Try me, cowboy.”

Cas grunted, hefting Dean’s weight on his arms as he was but a bag of feathers, pulling him away from the wall so that only Dean’s shoulders were pressed against it. Cas put more force into his thrusts, gliding his fingers down around Dean’s hole, careful, but spreading him more open, while fucking Dean steadily, not giving him a minute to catch his breath.

Dean felt like he was pulled in two different directions, the other one wanting Cas to give him more, add a finger in his ass with his cock, and the other just wanting Cas to fuck right to his prostate. A part of him clamored for both.

Cas eased his other hand slightly lower, right next to Dean’s asshole, all the while balancing Dean securely, and without a warning, slipped his little finger in, pulling slightly, making Dean trash his head from side to side, his mouth open in a soundless moan.

The heat soaring from Dean’s balls to his stomach shocked him to the core, and the next few well-aimed thrusts did him in, Dean coming without a hand on his cock, his cock jumping with each forceful pulse, Dean’s come splashing on his stomach and Cas’s chest, only to be washed away by the steaming water, the noise of the shower meshing with the white buzz in Dean’s ears.

Through the haze he felt more than heard Cas climaxing with a grunt, Dean’s ass clutching Cas’s cock rhythmically, Cas’s pleasure adding to Dean’s.

Dean, completely blissed out, went almost lax, and through the haze he heard Cas; “Hold on to me, Dean. Tight.” And he did, wrapping his legs around Cas as Cas adjusted his hold on Dean, embracing him, lifting his from the wall and gathering him close. Dean made a disapproving noise when Cas’s softening cock slipped out of him.

Cas chuckled, and held Dean to him with one arm, smoothing back Dean’s wet hair. “Can you stand?”

Shower sex was fantastic. “You may have to carry me to bed.”

Cas did.

***


	87. Heat Of The Moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 600  
> Based on the prompt 'first kiss' given by yes_i_ship_it.  
> Fluff

Dean and Cas had gone over the lore about fifteen times, just to be sure. It never hurt to be precise with these things. Could cost you your life, and the spawn of Charybdis would be all too happy take it.

It didn’t help that Dean would probably get seasick while going after this Greek bastard, but someone had to do it, and this time it was Sam and Dean.

Cas was putting the books away while Dean was going through the items on the table, making sure they really got everything. Cas had been called away, giving him only a few hours here and there to spend with the Winchesters, and it was starting to grate on him.

Things would never be clear if every time he got a few minutes alone with Dean, it revolved around a case, and the feeling of things going unspoken had only grown in the past few weeks. It was eating away at Cas, as it was Dean, who was now looking at Cas, shifting his weight from one foot to another.

Time was ticking, and Dean felt Cas’s inadvertent leaving like a physical pain. That’s how it had been for a while now, and the weight of it was pulling him down. When Cas was gone, a good half of everything that mattered went with him.

Cas watched Dean’s nervous movements for a brief minute. A calm, warm certainty settled over him, the look in Dean’s eyes enforcing it, and Cas took the step to be face to face with Dean.

He didn’t do anything else, but slowly raised to touch his lips to Dean’s, offering Dean a way to escape if he so desired, and after only a brush, he settled back, waiting, ready to take what was coming for him.

A thousand possibilities of how this was going to turn out galloped in Cas’s head, making time itself slow down, creating black gaps where there should be mere seconds.

Then Dean moved, quickly sliding his hand behind Cas’s head and attaching his lips on Cas’s with force.

Cas’s heart soared. He’d taken a chance guess, and almost hadn’t dared to wish for this.

He felt Dean’s arm taking him by the waist, keeping him still, as the kiss grew longer, and Cas wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck, deepening their kiss, the calm from before turning into fireworks in what felt like every fiber of his being. An immense joy of being able to do this, right here, right now. He was kissing Dean.

Dean’s head was spinning, thoughts coming to a total halt, everything pinpointing to this moment, everything swerving off course and taking a sharp turn to become this kiss, this moment of Dean’s dreams coming true, all uncertainty falling off him like a led cape, his heart fluttering in his chest, color high on his cheeks from sheer excitement.

Dean didn’t know how long the kiss lasted. All he knew was that he wanted another one. And another.

It was Sam’s not-very-subtle cough in the doorway that finally broke their kiss, a duffel in hand, clearly all set to go.

For a few ticks Dean didn’t know what he was seeing, most everything having lost its importance, out of the way for something new. But it was Sam’s smiling words that really made it a reality;

“Good. Now, one for the road and we can get going. We got a sea monster spawn to kill.”

Right. There were things in need of doing. The ‘one for the road’ turned into three lingering kisses, wordless promises of more.

***


	88. The Human Instrument

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Teen And Up (very mildly)  
> Word count: 400  
> reference to bondage, fluff

There were many ways their bond manifested itself.

Sometimes it was like a copper cord that strings between them, conducting heat, almost burning, so bright it was unbearable to stay away like a moth to a flame. Fierce, as the bed creaks under the weight of two men, hands trailing and bunching the silk of the scarves tying Dean’s hands, while Cas plays him like an instrument only he knows how to play. Plucking the strings of Dean's ribs, bringing out the gruff noises with his fingers, chords of pleas rushing from licked lips, soothed with a loving kiss.  
  
Sometimes it's a single gossamer, cobweb, delicate but strong, nearly invisible to all but the men themselves who are tangled in the frisson, unable to escape, never wanting to. The singularity of feeling perfectly at home wherever they are, as long as they're together, is hanging from this thread, and it shall never break. The cocoon which they’ve built for themselves is their barricade against the world, against all eventualities, yet it’s not a hostile place to be, as in the middle, like a candle, it’s alight with love.  
  
Other times, it's a thread of silk, impossible to break even under the most frustrating, most deadly duress, as it's holding them close, even though almost nonexistent, still unmistakably there, saving them from themselves, perhaps until the ends of time. Until love itself loses its meaning.  
  
But there's nothing quite like the invisible lasso of love that trumps all binds in the ways of bringing a rebelling angel and an extraordinary man into one. Balance which baffles the onlooker, people raising their brow at the unfaltering cooperation and wordless understanding. People unaware of having gotten a glimpse of the unity solely reserved for the perfect hold, the perfect understanding, how Cas is the thread which holds Dean together, never unraveling but winding himself around and around, tighter when Dean does not want to breathe, both fully aware that at any given time, Dean will do the same for Cas..  
  
There are times when the binds crack and weep, desperation leaking in between the cracks, until love wakes and floods, fills in the gaps, reminding them both that there can't be one without the other.  
  
Then, there are the bands on their fingers, one of ancient metal, one of iron, a silent testament to belonging.  
  
It is, after all, simply how perfection works.

***


	89. Come Again?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Mature  
> Word count: 200  
> fluff

Dean nuzzled Cas’s hip, a sated smile on his lips, the taste of Cas’s come on his tongue and Cas’s hand in his hair, his fingertips massaging Dean’s scalp lazily. Dean soothed his thumb over Cas’s hipbone, feeling the slight bumps of the lines of Cas’s tattoo. He followed the lines over and over again, knowing each mark by heart.

Dean lifted his head, momentarily regretting it when Cas’s hand dropped from his head, but he soldiered on, one target in mind, and got up to his knees to better reach it.

He shuffled to kneel between Cas’s legs and bent down to give Cas’s tattoo a light kiss, then licked over the path his thumb had run.

Cas’s breath hitched when Dean brushed his lips over the sensitive skin on his lover stomach, Cas’s hand finding Dean’s head again, fingers rubbing circles into Dean’s hair.

Dean made it his mission to kiss every mark of the sigil individually, then followed with his tongue, his hands tucked under Cas’s ass.

Feeling something touch his cheek, Dean lifted his head, and smirked. Cas’s cock twitched ardently, a heroic effort to get hard again.

Seemed like Dean’s plan was bearing plentiful fruit.

***


	90. I Dare You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 300  
> fluff

Cas hadn’t taken two steps into the bunker before Dean crowded him against the door, hands by Cas’s head, chest to chest.

They did nothing but stared at each other for a while, close enough to breath same air, both men almost disbelieving this was happening.

Dean leaned his head forward and nudged Cas’s nose with his own, their lips a hair’s breadth away, Cas’s hands curling into loose fists by his side, resisting the urge to haul Dean to him and hold on.

Finally, after almost a full minute had passed, both Dean and Cas shifted, their lips brushing, the brief touch spurring Cas into action. His arms come up on their own volition, embracing Dean tightly, and his lips latching onto Dean’s as he stepped forth to allow space for Dean to return the embrace.

Their kiss deep and satisfying a thirst in both of them, something that always parched them when they were forced apart.

Moments passed while the men were lost in each other, both of them running their hands over and over the other’s back, reassuring themselves this was really happening.

Cas eased himself from the kiss, allowing Dean to take a breath, and grinned against Dean’s lips; “I told you you’d cave in first.”

“Did not! You did.” Dean smirked back, nipping at Cas’s lip.

“I didn’t. You kissed me first, Dean.”

“You kissed me first, and you know it, Cas, just give up already.”

There was silence when Cas shut Dean up with another kiss. When they parted again, Cas let out a long sigh, pressing his lips against Dean’s neck, inhaling deeply.

“I don’t care about winning this, Dean. Let’s never do a dare like that again. It’s too taxing.”

Dean pushed his fingers into Cas’s hair, just holding him near. “Deal.”

***


	91. Never Seen You Like This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 800  
> mirror!sex

Standing in front of the full-length mirror, Dean held Cas’s naked form in his arms, mouth dry, almost reverent. “Look at you.”

Cas bowed his head slightly, hot under the skin, then met Dean’s eyes in the mirror, his hands moving over Dean’s when he leaned back against the man. Dean’s tongue feeling thick in his mouth, he wedged a hand gently from Cas’s hold.

Slowly, cherishing each moment that passed too quickly, Dean slid his hand from Cas’s shoulder to his wrist. “Look at you, Cas,” Dean words came in a hot gust of breath, the tone of his voice betraying how disbelieving them man was of his own luck.  
  
With only the very tip of his fingers, Dean drew a line through the middle of Cas’s chest, over the solar plexus, right above his belly button, where he splayed his hand to Cas’s stomach, swallowing hard before able to speak again; “Cas, _fuck_ , you’re _beautiful_. I knew you would be.”

Cas smiled at Dean in the mirror, finding Dean’s thigh and brushing a light circle there, needing the touch to anchor himself. Feeling Dean’s hands rove all over him was a thing altogether, but watching him do it added an aesthetic layer Cas had never considered before. Not until they’d walked in through the door. Not until he’d glanced at the mirror while watching Dean undress. Now it felt like he’d been deprived of something wonderful, and he was finally going to get it.

Cas let out a small sound when Dean’s fingers continued on their path, sliding tenderly down the taut skin of Cas’s cock, while his other hand found a nipple to play with. 

Up again, a brush of Dean’s rough thumb over the slick tip of Cas’s cock, and Cas had to close his eyes for the time it took for him to calm himself enough to talk. “I love your hands, Dean.” A hiss at a sharp, sobering pinch of his nipple, the simultaneous hand around his cock, and the rest of his sentence spewed out in a low moan; “I love them on me…”

Cas let himself relax fully into those hands, murmuring, pleased at the open-mouthed breath tickling his ear when Dean panted watching them together in the mirror. “Dean, please…” 

Dean couldn’t have torn his eyes away from the sight of his own fingers around Cas’s cock, watching keenly as Cas’s balls drew up, how his cock jerked as Dean delved his hand lower and around the sack, a tell that gave away how close to coming Cas was already.  
  
Dean moaned at the realization that he’d get to watch it all happen, watch himself making Cas groan and mewl, watch them both like he’d never seen before.   
  
As aroused as Cas, Dean lowered his hand from Cas’s nipple, then slid it between Cas’s thighs, urging him to spread his legs, never really stopping his strokes along Cas‘s cock.

Dean knew Cas couldn’t hold back much longer, feeling the ripple of Cas’s muscles under his arm, holding Cas close to himself.

Eagerly, Cas  watched Dean guide his cock between Cas’s legs, pressing hard against Cas’s perineum, Dean’s cock feeling hot against the sensitive skin.

Cas’s eyes were wide when he reached down to touch Dean’s cock, his whole body yearning for it. The mirror reflected Cas’s desperation, his mouth open and eyes gleaming, practically begging for it.  
  
Eyes fixed on the mirror, not knowing what he wanted to see the most and trying to see everything, Cas leaned forward, supporting himself against the wall with both hands, wordlessly asking Dean for more.  
  
In response, Dean withdrew his palm from Cas’s hip, gradually dragging his nails over Cas’s lower back and onto the cleft of his ass, spreading his fingers against Cas’s lower back as Dean pressed the pad of his thumb against Cas’s hole, Dean’s gaze never leaving Cas’s face, drinking in each movement.  
  
Cas groaned, his eyes closing against his will as he thrust against Dean’s hand, his inevitable orgasm flooding through his whole body. Dean got him. Cas could let go now.  
  
Cas forced his eyes open and reached behind himself, grasping Dean’s hip the best he could reach, feeling Dean work his own cock against Cas’s skin, Dean’s groans filling Cas’s senses, their eyes locked as Dean pleaded; “Show me, Cas. Let me watch.”

At the end of Dean’s words, Cas came like it was punched out of him, his come splattering onto the mirror in bursts over Dean’s hand.

Through the haze of his orgasm, Cas could feel Dean coming between his thighs, a wide smile spreading on Cas’s lips as he tried to catch his breath. They’d have to reverse the positions before leaving the motel. Who knew when they’d have an opportunity like this again?

***


	92. De Anima

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 300  
> fluff

It all depends on who you ask.

Sam will smirk the smirk of a little brother, followed by a frown when said little brother is forced to think about his brother’s sex life. He shrugs it off and smirks again, a light beyond his eyes that speaks of sincerity. He will tell you that Dean was a lost cause from the moment Cas walked into his life, and though it took a lot of kicking and screaming from Dean’s part, there was nothing he could do about it. Dean was in love, and although the poor jerk doesn’t see it himself, it shows. Boy, how it shows.

You go and ask Castiel, and he will lasso you into a discussion about the human psyche, quote Aristotle at you and ponders about the different kinds of souls. It’s not that he’s denying anything. He’s challenging you only so that he can defend himself, the kind of lifeforce, psyche, he has, and if that constitutes a soul. He would like if it did. He’s seen soulmates before, and he’s immovable in his opinion that semantics aside, he has found his own. He’s doing this because he’s in love. Has been since the beginning of time. The trouble was solely in _finding_ the bright, remarkable soul on this Earth that forever resonates with Cas’s grace.

Should you walk up to Dean and ask him about it, you’ll get a wide-eyed spittake, and clamping up, _maybe_ some muttering about his bitch of a brother not knowing when to shut his goddamn cakehole, and that will pretty much be it. Except if you know where to look, you’ll see how the brazen look on Dean’s face softens into a smile when he sees Cas, how his eyes glimmer. You see, he’s auspiciously, irrevocably in love.

***


	93. Falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 200  
> schmoop

Leaning against the tree, Dean closed his eyes and leaned his head back letting the sun warm his face, his fingers twirling a fallen leaf. He brushed his thumb over the petiole, onto the thinner vessels, each stemming delicately into finer and finer veins… then traced back along them, observing how they grew thicker as they came together and intertwined to form a solid stalk.

His mind conjured instant associations as he played with the leaf, gently brushing over it like he would the back of Cas’s hand, tracing the veins, bones under skin, pushing his own hand against Cas’s just to feel it there, fingertips ghosting over knuckles he knew could be deadly, but their touch so soft when they brushed Dean’s cheek. He could almost feel it now.

Dean broke into a wide smile when his sun was suddenly blocked, the phantasm of his daydream fading aside to give way to reality. He reached out a hand.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas took Dean’s hand and pulled him up, greeting him with a kiss that brightened Dean’s world more than the sun ever could.

Dean pocketed the leaf to later press it between the pages of his journal. Just… because.

***


	94. Insatiable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 500  
> bottom!Dean

Dean groaned against Cas’s neck, straddling his lap, Cas buried to the hilt inside Dean, arms wound tightly around him.

Cas’s thighs trembled as he tried to stay still, letting Dean adjust to the girth, the tightness around his cock a vice grip that swept away all other thoughts, Cas’s whole world concentrating on Dean and Dean alone.

Dean started moving slowly, bracketing Cas’s head with his arms, hips swaying minutely, before he started fucking himself on Cas’s cock in longer strokes.

Each thrust pushed out a groan out of Dean, turning into louder moans when Cas met him halfway, catching Dean’s lips with his own between moans to lap up the beautiful sounds the man was making, their kisses more licks at each other’s lips than anything else.

Cas’s hands started to roam across Dean’s back, whether calming or spurring him on, he didn’t even know himself. All he knew that he wanted more of this, more of Dean taking what _he_ wanted, and sharing it all with Cas.

Dean hauled himself up with a parting lick at Cas’s mouth, sitting on Cas’s cock, thighs taut when he started to ride Cas in earnest, head thrown back, his groans coming uninhibited, keening when he found the right angle.

Cas held onto Dean’s arms, feeling the muscles shifting there, watching, rapt, as Dean eyes closed in pure ecstasy, mouth hanging open to take in enough air, his chest glistening with a sheen of sweat.

Cas grit his teeth against the swelling need to come, taking Dean’s cock in hand, gripping tight and smearing the leaking precome along the hot flesh with his thumb, then returning to rub the head of Dean’s cock.

Dean became unhinged, fucking down harder, faster, his teeth bared as he bore down, his hole clenching around Cas’s cock promisingly, his gaze turning to look Cas in the eye, pupils blown.

Cas’s toes curled with the pull of his orgasm, the tendons in his neck tensing as he kept fucking Dean, trying to keep it together so that he could watch Dean come first, knowing that it would be his own undoing.

Dean’s groans turned into a continuous moan, his face slack as his eyes closed, pounding down even when he started to come, fucking himself through the orgasm, trembling with it, Cas’s name on his lips.

Cas hauled Dean to him, thrusting in deep, gripping on Dean like a lifeline as he came inside him, hips working even when he felt his come dripping down his cock, trying to stay inside Dean as long as he could.

Panting hard, Dean sat up and blinked blindly at Cas for a moment, then looked down himself, onto Cas’s abdomen. He swirled a finger through his come and lifted it to Cas’s lips, Cas’s tongue lapping up the offering with a content sigh. Dean bit his lip at the sight, then leaned down to growl into Cas’s ear; “You think you can stay inside me until you’re hard again?”

***


	95. Take What You Give

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 300  
> rimming, bottom!Cas

Cas was on his knees on the bed, leaning on his elbow, while Dean enjoyed the musk of Cas with each lave of his tongue over Cas’s hole, pushing though the ring of muscle to feel it constrict and give way, Cas holding himself open with one hand to give Dean better access.

It was inebriating, the scent and taste mingling with Cas’s groans, creating a mindless bliss that spurred Dean on, his cock seeping precome with each sound Cas made. He was creating an animal, and he knew it, had become an expert of when to give Cas more, when to withdraw, to make the angel crazy with lust.

Dean fucked his tongue into Cas steadily, grabbing his hip, keeping him still, but it didn’t stop Cas from swaying lightly, pushing against Dean’s face.

A low keen rumbled from Cas’s chest when Dean touched a finger to the rim, just touching lightly, teasing, both the men knowing what would happen next, but the tease of it heady for them both.

Slowly, Dean eased his finger in the spit-slick hole, moving it in small pushes, watching eagerly as Cas’s ass swallowed all it was given, Cas’s hips pressing back harder, demanding more, right now.

Dean licked around his finger, tonguing Cas’s rim, thrusting inside together with his finger, bringing another one into play, Cas instantly going still, knowing he only got what Dean wanted to give.

Dean grinned, taking mercy on Cas and pushing the second finger in wholly, spreading his fingers to better flick his tongue on the rim, all the while fucking Cas with his fingers.

Cas began moving again, his groans turned into moans that would soon be the pleads Dean was waiting for.

He never could resist Cas’s heartfelt begging of “Fuck me already, Dean, _please_.”

***


	96. Through Thick And Thin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 300  
> fluff, feat. Sam

Sam halted in mid-step, going stone still and quiet as a mouse on top of the stairs. Leaning on the railing, chin in hand, watching downstairs where he could see into the library where Dean and Cas were, oblivious of being observed, Cas bracketing Dean’s lap, his face buried into Dean’s neck, lips just ghosting against the skin, in Dean’s embrace.  


Sam couldn’t make out the words crooned into Cas’s ear, but whatever it was, the angel found it humorous, grinning wide and giving Dean a slow, lingering kiss, then returning to hide his face into Dean’s neck, relaxed and pliant as Dean’s hands tucked under Cas’s shirt, smoothing his hands over Cas’s skin.

In Sam’s opinion, it was a heartwarming scene, something he didn’t want to disturb no matter what. Just seeing his friend and his brother like this like this; caring and loving, seemed to release some tension he’d been carrying inside him all day. If the quiet joint laughter was any indication, the two men had already put the day behind them, finding solace in each other. On some other evening, Sam might have felt a pang in the vicinity of his heart, but tonight, he lived vicariously through the sheer love he was seeing right before him.

Stealthily, Sam turned on his heel, heading back out the door, making sure he’d make his entrance more obvious next time, maybe go out for a drink to give the lovers their moment of happiness.  


With his feet carrying him out into the night, Sam thought over what he had seen just now, what they’d all been through, bringing them to this day. If those two could work things out and find peace, even if it was only momentary, maybe, one day, all could be well in the world.

***


	97. Chilled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 200  
> fluff

In the middle of winter, in the desolate ass-end of Nowhere, Alaska, the nigh-frozen predator skulked silently into the motel room, quietly detecting his prey hunkered over, apparently cleaning a gun, facing away from the door - perfectly situated for a successful predation. 

The man-formed beast traded lightly, swiftly towards his victim, shedding layers of clothing on his way, mittens coming off cold hands to best achieve the desired response. The monster grinned mischievously.  
  
“Dean!” Cas squealed, weapon parts scattering, slipping to wherever, a gleeful chuckle accompanying his jolt off the bed to escape.

Cool fingers carefully draped over the warmth of the back of Cas’s neck had the desired effect, making the angel balk away and desperately claw for an escape, hands half-heartedly warding off the offender while he was giggling himself silly.   
  
“No! No, no, no, Dean! _Stop_!” The high-pitched shrieking dissolved into full on laughter and delighted squirming, when Dean scooted them against the wall, nuzzling Cas‘s ear with his cold nose, cool lips brushing against Cas’s cheek.   
  
Eyes glinting, cheeks flushed red, Dean eased his hands under Cas’s shirt, making him shudder and squeak, before closing his lips over Cas‘s, followed by a heartfelt plead; “ _Warm. Me_.”

***


	98. Golden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 300  
> bottom!Cas

It was true that Dean had a certain affinity for Cas’s shoulders.

The golden skin he could roam his hands over, feel the muscles shifting under his hand whether Dean was under or above him, Cas’s shoulder blades a blank canvas for Dean to paint with kisses.

It didn’t hurt that Cas was extremely sensitive in the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Dean abused this revelation generously, licking and nipping, biting down into the skin at the height of ecstasy, to bring out the most beautiful sounds a man could ever be blessed with.

Dean could make Cas pant with his tongue alone, trailing a strip along Cas’s neck and blowing on it gently, making Cas shiver with it, clutching to Dean like a lifeline.

Now, he had the perfect view of Cas’s shoulder blades working as he fucked himself back on Dean’s cock, Dean’s hands curving around Cas’s hip, pulling him towards himself, entranced by the dance of skin before him.

He slid one hand along Cas’s flank, up to his shoulder blade, thumbing the ridge the bone underneath created, massaging the muscle underneath his fingers.

It was animalistic, Dean’s short moans coming unbound, meeting Cas thrust by thrust, moving in sync.

The way Cas thrust back spoke of how much he wanted to be fucked harder, faster, wanting everything _now,_ needed _Dean_.

Dean reached around and wrapped his hand around Cas’s cock, leaning forth enough to press breathless kisses to Cas’s shoulder blades, putting more force behind his thrusts, his own orgasm a hair’s breadth away.

Cas’s back curved down, his throat bared when his orgasm hit, the pulse around Dean’s cock too much, making him come deep in Cas, his face pressed against the beloved skin, teeth bared.

Cas would love the bite mark left there.

***


	99. Home Is Where Your Heart Is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: General Audiences  
> Word count: 400  
> schmoop

After departures, there is always the returning; the best part of departures, when the anticipation of seeing one another once again alone creates the ghostly experience of actually hearing the key turn in the lock, the door open, familiar steps walking in when there’s no one there. That moment when one can feel the other’s presence mere moments before two men can finally sigh in relief, lips joining in a grateful greeting, lingering touches, gazes locked and not letting go.   
  
Sometimes, time itself seems to slow down in celebration of the lonely vigil one has kept in that state of mind where everything has lost its meaning, nothing is worth doing, when thoughts flit through an aggravated mind, agonizing when a half of a whole is missing…  
  
But when you know the moment is near… The relentless, nervous butterflies in the stomach fluttering. The electricity felt in every limb, the cadence of the tap of the fingers to the arm of the chair. The meaning of it all, the depth that one must muddle through, the never ending _craving_ of one another manifesting itself in tiny little quirks. That troublous sigh.  
  
And the rattle of the key sounds, and Dean springs to his feet, tossing aside his book that was incomprehensible anyway, no matter how many times he’s read the same page.   
  
And the door opens, bringing to him the other half, and Dean’s heart leaps at the sight of tousled hair, instantly mesmerized by the brightest blue of those eyes staring back at him.  
  
Dean fidgets as Cas just stands there, closing the door behind him, his brow quirked in an amused arch in anticipation of something special having happened. He spreads his arms in an invitation, a question and an answer at once.  
  
And he’s right, you know. Today _is_ special. Today the _sun_ shines brighter, and the song of a nightingale was heard.   


Today, Cas came back to Dean. Dean was there for Cas to come back to. It’s a spectacular, fantastic day. Today.  
  
The song the bird was singing was the same song that had been sung for centuries, alighting hearts and evoking emotions, giving flowers their colors and conflating men. These two men, on this perfectly ordinary day, step forth towards each other, tightly wrap their arms around each other, lips finding lips, coming to rest their heads on their supporting pillars.

And they stay.

***


	100. Only For You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Explicit  
> Word count: 800  
> oral sex, bottom!Cas, schmoop

Friction, greedy words, Cas, everywhere around him, as Dean was laying on the bed, blissfully succumbing under Cas’s ministrations. There was hunger in Cas’s eyes that only Dean could feed, balls deep in Cas’s throat, the angel moaning wantonly around the cock, his fingers playing with Dean’s sack, dipping down to tease Dean’s perineum, then coming up again to rub between Dean’s balls.

Cas pulled off almost all the way, wrapping his fingers around, Dean’s cock, giving it small tugs while sucking the tip, tongue thrusting into the slit, licking off the drops of precome leaking steadily.

Cas took Dean all the way in again, tongue flat against a large vein, making Dean’s cock pulse and Cas groan as Dean leaked more profusely, the tang of Dean everything that made up Cas’s world at this moment.

Cas slid a hand under Dean’s buttock, his thumb in the dip of Dean’s hip, caressing the skin, while his other hand never let go of Dean’s balls, pulling them down gently while bobbing his head up and down, stopping every now and then to tongue the frenum, making Dean push his hips up instinctively, wanting to get in deeper.

After a moment, Cas stopped moving, keeping his head still so that Dean could fuck his throat, moans escaping between thrusts as Cas was fed Dean’s cock, his hand going from Dean’s balls to grab Dean’s thigh to steady himself, Cas’s mind swooning with how much he wanted this, how deprived he’d felt before they’d gotten naked and onto the bed.

In a way, he was still feeling empty, the jolts going through his body from the pleasure of Dean head-fucking him wasn’t enough. Not close enough. He still felt empty.

Cas stilled Dean’s movements and looked at him, pupils blown, devouring nearly all of the bright blue. “I want you to fuck me, Dean. Now.”

Dean had no objections. He went to the nightstand instantly, bringing out a bottle of lube, applying it liberally on his cock and slicking his fingers.

But Cas was impatient, the emptiness unbearable, so he just up and straddled Dean, taking hold of Dean’s cock, adjusting his position, and started to lower himself slowly.

Dean was left to swipe his lubed fingers on the sheets, mouth open and breath hitched as Cas’s body engulfed him inch by inch, a moan building in his chest as Cas bottoms out.

Carefully, Cas raises higher on his knees, leaning forward for a brief kiss, Dean’s hands planted to Cas’s waist, and it takes only a few slow thrusts and Cas is grinding down on Dean’s cock, the glorious feeling of being slip open overcoming all his senses.

  
Another word pushes through between the angel’s lips, meant for Dean’s ears only; “So good,” as Cas throws his head back and rides Dean to his heart’s content.

It’s lust-filled and pure heat, proximity and unsurpassed pleasure, heartbeats to be felt on palms when Cas leans forward again, Dean’s hand to his chest, and they share a brief kiss, both of them pulling lungfuls of air through their noses.  


Dean, wrapping his arms around Cas, shifts into a position where he’s fucking into Cas on top of him, feeling Cas’s hot breath wet against his neck. There’s promising heat pooling in Dean’s stomach, knots untangling, the warmth spreading, intensifying by the second as Cas lifts his head, his mouth a wordless ‘O’.

Teetering on the brink of not wanting it to end, wishing they could be like this always, it’s Cas’s intense  _gaze_ , the brilliant light in Cas’s eyes alighting Dean’s heart, making the moment fire up to spectacular proportions.

For some reason, it always feels new.

  
Unabashed _want_ shines through Cas, in the blush of his chest, all over the golden skin, as it rises to his neck.  
Everything is at once, shared only between these two men.

 

‘No one else will ever see this,’ the need to claim tells Dean’s heart, the desire to own raising its head  
“This is for my eyes only,” he continues out loud, “For me alone,” and Cas bites Dean’s neck gently.

And it’s over, Dean’s back bowing as he thrusts into Cas savagely, yanking a dizzying orgasm out of Cas, and coming himself inside Cas at the same time, giving Cas exactly what he wants, Dean taking what is his.  
  
Minutes pass as the men hold still, Dean’s cock twitching inside Cas, making the man whimper.

It takes long moments for them to gather their wits together, Dean kissing Cas’s ear, nuzzling it, while Cas sprawls on top of Dean, smiling, both their hands soothing and caressing, easing each other down from their highs.

Cas whimpers a little when Dean’s cock slips out of him, spurring him to look Dean in the eye; “Only for you.”

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it. That's the last drabble. Thank you for reading ♥


End file.
